Unforgivable
by Quinsie
Summary: A routine Auror mission takes an unexpected turn when Harry identifies the suspect. Will his daughter herald the rise of a new generation of Death Eaters? Rated T for references to Cruciatus,  reviews may be rated M so read them at own risk . :
1. Pursuit

Harry Potter was famous variously as the vanquisher of Voldemort, long-time head of the Auror Department, and the Boy Who Lived (twice). Among Aurors, he was simply the boss, known best for his powerful Disarmament Charm ("disarmingly charming", his wife called him). As a certain vigilant wizard once warned, _Expelliarmus_ had become Harry's signature move. But far from being a hindrance, the power he had achieved behind the spell evoked fear in any who duelled him in practice and even, it was said, some of his real enemies.

Harry's greatest pride, however, was that his strength formed part of the Standard Non-Lethal Apprehension Sequence that Kingsley Shacklebolt had developed to fulfill the Ministry's new commitment to suspects' rights.

"I'll Disarm, and you hit him with Stupefy if he gives any sign of attacking us," Harry reminded the witch with him.

"What makes you think it's a _he_?" Tracey asked.

Feminist witches. He had no doubt this was something Hermione had started.

"If he or she looks to be attacking, you Stupefy him," Harry said. "Or her."

"Right." Tracey Wilson hardly needed reminding; at twenty six she had four years' field training under her belt and was a few months away from completing her Junior Aurorship.

Auror training, not to mention experience, had taught Harry to expect anything, but on arriving at Hogwarts, his first feeling had been that it was good to be home, followed by a promise to himself to visit more often.

Headmaster Longbottom was hardly more concerned than Harry. The Curse Alert had sounded in his office at four-thirty, but Dark-sensors were still semi-experimental: they could - and had - been set off by nothing more than a stray DADA lesson or even students jinx-duelling in the corridors. When Harry and Tracey reached the castle ten minutes later, the situation had escalated: a Slytherin student was found confused and semi-conscious at the edge of the grounds, and the assailant, from what he could tell Madam Pomfrey, had fled into the Forbidden Forest.

They Flooed for backup, but Harry still hardly thought they'd need it. From Neville's description of the student's state it was probably no more than an unfortunate consequence of a simultaneous hit, possibly Confundus andStupefy.

As if on cue, a lion Patronus approached him and spoke, " Your backup have arrived and are searching toward the west. The student is recovering and Poppy says he won't need to go to St Mungo's."

"That's good," Tracey said, as the Patronus faded. "It's getting dark."

Harry scanned the Forest, looking out for any signs of movement. Determining which student had fled was made more difficult by the fact that, being a weekend, Hogwartians could be found anywhere from their common rooms to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade.

"_Lumos mihi_," Harry muttered. The dusky trees were flooded with an orangeish light.

"Huh?" Tracey looked around for the effect of his spell.

"It's light only you can see," Harry explained.

"Nice," Tracey said, "_Lumos mihi_."

Evidently the effect pleased her; she'd always had a penchant for spellwork and, Harry thought, might have been better off working in the Department of Experimental Charms. He was going to apply to have her Junior Aurorship extended if she couldn't get over her mission nerves, and besides, Experimental Charms needed someone to fix these ruddy Dark magic alarms. They couldn't keep sending out Auror teams whenever some fifth year discovered Sectumsempra or magically killed a mosquito in their dormitory.

"That's something." Tracey's voice squeaked the final syllable.

Harry had to stop himself from jumping at her panic; he had momentarily been distracted. Which was perhaps more dangerous, even on a minor mission like this, as being overly frightened.

He thought he could make out something ahead, a shifting of outlines that was different from the swaying trees. Its movement was slow, as if tired, or strolling; evidently their quarry (if this was him) hadn't seen them in the darkening forest.

"Let's not draw attention to ourselves," Harry whispered. He and Tracey slowed, mirroring the speed of the person to remain a steady distance behind them.

"Do you think that's a person?" Tracey asked. "_Hominem revelio!_"

The air around them lit up with blue light, which seemed stronger to the left, as though it was emanating from the suspect's outline.

"Well, it's definitely human," Harry said. Before Tracey could object to his calling the suspect "it" (which she had been known to do), "it" started to move faster.

"How'd they hear us?" Harry wondered out loud, breaking into a run.

Tracey shrugged. "Extendable Ears?"

He kept an eye on the suspect. It was hard to avoid being distracted by memories of Fred and George, especially when he began to think about how that partnership ended.

He or she ran with a light, erratic swiftness that left Harry in no doubt that their quarry was a student. For a few minutes the suspect seemed to be escaping, and Harry had his wand out to forcibly prevent that, but soon the Aurors' trained fitness kicked in over the youngster's natural running aptitude, and the gap closed.

He focussed on his wand for a moment, extending the range of his Personal Light Charm until it cast a faint glow over the suspect. It looked like about a fourth or fifth year, but that was as much as he could discern, as the student wore a light travelling cloak with the hood up.

"How much closer do we need to get?" Tracey asked.

"Not much," said Harry.

A second later, the student brought the situation to a head. In a light, dancer-like movement, they stopped and turned, landing with feet planted square. Classic duelling stance.

"Now?" Tracey asked, but Harry was already casting _Expelliarmus_.

The spell caught the student full in the chest. A wand flew through the air, the hood fell off. The second jet of red light hit a touch lower. The student doubled over and crumpled, landing face-first on a still-materialising pillow that Tracey conjured an instant after casting _Stupefy_.

"Nice spell work," Harry said. Casting near-simultaneous spells was one of Tracey's strong points. "You check out the suspect."

Tracey gingerly approached even this measly enemy.

"Tracey," Harry said, "You've got to get used to this if you're going to be an Auror. They didn't even put up a fight. I'm going to check out this wand and Patronus Neville."

Again as if on cue, a second lion Patronus approached them as it materialised through the trees. Harry cast a quick Freezing Charm, turning his mind to the immediate task of examining the suspected weapon.

"_Accio wand_," he murmured. A single, straight stick separated itself from sticks on the forest floor and drifted lazily into his free hand. He cast some preliminary protections on the wand, which would preserve the record of its past spells and neutralise any basic anti-theft enchantments the owner may have placed on it.

"What spells's it done?" Tracey asked.

Harry shrugged. "It's better from a legal point of view to do _Priori incantatem_ in front of an independent witness. Anyway, it's going to rain. Let's get going."

There'd been a hairy case, a couple of years ago now, in which a Junior Auror used a suspect's wand to cast _lumos_ and a few cleaning spells on the way home from a mission. It had invalidated the wand's spell record as evidence in court, caused a media furore about "corruption" in the Auror Department, and led to several declarations by the Wizengamot regarding responsible treatment of seized wands. What Harry remembered most vividly was the reams and reams of paperwork.

"Will we wake her up then?" Tracey asked.

"So it is a girl?" Harry realised he would never hear the end of this one.

"Yeah. She's moving. Ennervate?"

"Not yet."

Wordlessly, Tracey waved her wand over the prostrate body, and it stopped stirring. Harry slipped the wand into his pocket.

"You've done sparks?" she asked.

"Oh yeah." Pulling out his own wand, Harry shot green sparks above the Forest canopy.

"Best way to transport's probably unconscious," he said. "You know what Neville's like about students. He'll do his nut if we traumatise her by tying her up."

Tracey pulled Neville's office Portkey out of her pocket. "_Portus._"

She rolled the student over and wrapped one listless hand around the small, glowing garden spade.

"Let's go then," she said, beckoning to Harry. "Hurry up, it's on a thirty second timer."

Harry, however, had lost the ability to speak, or walk. He wanted to step toward the sleeping body, to see the face closer. The orange light from his wand tapered off, but he'd seen already who their unconscious suspect was.

_Why didn't Tracey_ - the thought broke off before he could complete it. Harry and Ginny kept their family life fiercely private. Of course Tracey hadn't recognised his daughter.

Unbound by the caster's loss of focus, the Freezing Spell Harry had put on Neville's Patronus sputtered out, and it spoke: "Be careful approaching the suspect. We have strong suspicions that the curse cast was the Cruciatus."


	2. The Interrogation of Lily Luna Potter

**Author's note: **This chapter is dedicated to the Harry Potter Lexicon, for its incredible source for fact-checking which helped me enormously in writing this! Also, contrary to the previous chapter, I discovered that Auror training is only three years (at the time Harry was in school). Let's just imagine Harry's decided to extend the training time by the next-gen era. ;)

* * *

><p>The Patronus faded. The bonds seemingly gluing Harry's feet to the ground did not.<p>

"Hurry!" Tracey yelled, as the Portkey began to glow again.

It was only the thought of sending Lily away alone that made Harry step forward, kneel, and place his hand on the Portkey beside his unconscious daughter's. In the nick of time - as he closed his fingers around it, he felt the familiar jerk behind his navel, and the whirlwind confusion that followed seemed to mirror his thoughts as they were transported back to the school.

Harry landed on his feet in a corridor. He was used to the unnerving sensations of magical travel. So he gathered that that was not what was giving him the urge to be sick.

Hoping he had imagined the her face, or, even (_please_, Harry begged) that Neville's Patronus was a bad dream, he looked around. Tracey had also landed feet first. She was standing over the suspect, who lay facing away from him and was beginning to stir.

The feeling of paralysis had followed Harry in from the Forest. He forced himself to lean toward her, to check, but again, Lily saved him a decision. Her hair fell away from her face as she rolled onto her back and opened her eyes - Ginny's eyes.

_Ginny_.

How was he going to tell Ginny? As Head of the Auror Department, Harry sometimes to deliver bad news to the families of his colleagues. _Your daughter was killed in action_, _your son will spend the rest of his life in St Mungo's… _Kingsley had taught him how to have those conversations. But this -

"Dad?" Lily whispered.

Harry saw Tracey twitch.

_I'm acting in a professional capacity_, he thought. Guilty relief. He didn't need to respond to this as a father. Yet.

He turned to his junior Auror. "We're going to - to need to take her to Nev - to the Headmaster."

"How will we do that?" she asked.

"Handcuffs?" As he reached into his pocket for the magical handcuffs, his fingers brushed his daughter's doomed wand.

An oozing gash ran from Lily's left eye to her right cheekbone. Harry was seized by an urge to knit it magically, like he had her various home Quidditch injuries. Instead, he avoided Lily's eyes as he cuffed her like a dangerous criminal. For a Category Two suspect (they graded them like storms), it was the least he could do within protocol.

Tracey looked at the floor. Harry numbly appreciated that her position at this moment was at least as awkward as his own. He knew what she was thinking, because he'd felt that way a hundred times before: _I will hug my children tonight, because however many chocolate frogs they've coaxed from the top shelf of the pantry, I am just so, so, so grateful that _this_ is not my child_.

"Where are we?" Tracey asked.

"I think we're in one of the empty classrooms," Harry said. "The Portkey always leads there, in case we have -" He couldn't bring himself to say, _a dangerous suspect_.

"So we take her to Professor Longbottom?" Tracey asked.

"Yes." Harry usually smiled at the younger Aurors' need to call his former classmates-turned-professors by their surnames. "We're on the third floor I think - we'll go around the staircase near the Charms classroom."

Harry chose this route because he remembered it being an unpopular one during his time at Hogwarts, mainly due to the tendency for Flitwick to leave his classroom door open, and therefore for students to cast charms on unlucky passersby. Now, however, Flitwick was gone, class was not in session, and the corridors were crowded with Hogwartians , who'd been ushered back from Hogsmeade in light of the incident.

"What's going-" he heard a student say before their friend shushed them and whispered something in their ear.

"Lily! Where were you - what are you-" That student was borne away by the crowd too.

Harry kept his head down and pushed forward, letting Tracey keep a hold on Lily. The crowd finally dispersed only as they approached the stone gargoyle that marked the entrance to the Headmaster's office.

"Uh -" Harry's mind was blank.

"Filibuster," Tracey said.

The gargoyle sprung aside and the spiral staircase raised them smoothly and steadily upwards. Harry looked down at Lily. She was looking at a dent in the stone two steps above her. Harry felt cold, but when he caught sight of himself in a passing window, he saw that he was blushing, only faintly, as though he'd simply lost embarrassingly in a practice duel.

The stairs reached their terminus. They stepped off onto the platform outside the polished oak doors.

Feeling that he'd been rather useless so far, Harry stepped forward to strike the griffin knocker. There was no response. Then, from behind them -

"Harry?" Neville's voice echoed up the stone spiral. "Oh, good, I've just been down to see the victim. He's recovering well -" His head appeared around the bend "-But it looks as though he's been _tortur-_"

Neville saw Lily and froze, so completely that he stumbled when the stairs deposited him on the solid platform.

He looked straight at the door. Placing his hand on the lock, he muttered an incantation that apparently removed the need for a key. The door sprang open. He held it open for them; though this was unnecessary, all the while looking at the inside of his office as though he was expecting to see someone else there. There was nobody; Neville took a seat behind his desk, while Harry, Tracey and Lily stood two steps inside the door.

Neville levitated two chairs from a corner of the office. They dropped to the ground with a good few feet between them.

"Take a seat." Neville spoke to Harry and Tracey. Lily, evidently, was to stand before him.

Between Tracey and himself, with her hands cuffed physically and magically behind her back, Lily looked both larger and frailer than Harry had ever seen her.

"We can't do any questioning or analysis of the wand records until we have at least four independent Aurors here," Tracey said.

Delaying the inevitable, Harry thought.

"That's three more then," Harry said, gesturing at Tracey.

"Junior Aurors can be included among the analysts?" Neville asked.

"Not apprentices, but Juniors, yes," Harry said. He looked across at Tracey. Lily was shivering slackly, as if cold. Harry took his own wand from his pocket. Wands out were optional with a restrained and cooperative suspect, but he was concerned with arresting her fall if she passed out.

"And how are you, Miss Dunville?" Neville asked Tracey. "You were in my Herbology class."

_Everyone was in your Herbology class, _Harry thought, but he appreciated Neville's brave attempt to make conversation. He wondered if the rule about not questioning suspects unsupervised included things like _are you okay_?

"I'm, um, well," Tracey said to Neville, "And congratulations on becoming Headmaster, Professor - I'm not sure if I've seen you since then?"

Neville gave a chuckle that sounded more like the result of a punch to the stomach. "I'm not sure I'd remember if you had, Miss Dunville. Where are those Aurors, I wonder?"

Lily stumbled, though she hadn't been moving. Harry Summoned a chair, which slid under her rather faster than he had intended, hitting her knees from behind. There was a faint, sickening crack as Lily fell and sat on her cuffed hands. She clenched her jaw and didn't cry out.

"I - I think I saw you at the Ministry's Christmas Ball last year," Tracey said to Neville, her voice reaching a tenser pitch than it had in the Forest.

"Oh, I wasn't there," Harry said. "I was practically living at St Mungo's-" _With Lily having dragon pox_, he added silently.

"I don't believe I was either," said Neville. "I missed it because of a terrible cold - or perhaps that was the Winter Dinner?"

The sound of the griffin knocker broke their tortured conversation.

"Come in," Neville said, as the lock clicked and the door swung open.

Their backup consisted of Joseph Proudfoot and another Junior Auror, Felix Clark. The two Aurors stepped inside. Their robes were covered in assorted burrs and twigs from the Forbidden Forest, some of which had also lodged in Felix's springy hair.

_They sent old Proudfoot and a Junior? _Harry allowed himself a moment of hope. If they were certain it _was_ the Cruciatus Curse, surely the Auror Office would have sent more battle-worthy backup.

"Sorry we're so late," Proudfoot said as he closed the door. "Just been down t'look at that student."

"Pomfrey said it looked like-"

Proudfoot nodded. "Unless we're lookin' at an unknown potion side effect, I'm nine'y-nine percent sure it's Cruciatus. Haven't seen a civilian bunged up tha' bad since the Wars."

Neville blanched. "Will he be - okay?"

Proudfoot jumped. "Oh, yes, of course, he's not - you know, it wasn't for long. He's pretty shaken up, but 'e'll be right. Pomfrey's got a Healer from St Mungo's in to look at 'im, but they reckon it's better keepin' him 'ere."

"That's great news," Neville said. "Do you want to question the suspect here?"

"Should do," Proudfoot said. "Better t'check the wand while the record's still fresh."

"I'll do the chairs, if you want," Tracey said, seeing that there were none left in the corner Neville had summoned theirs from. She waved her wand in a complicated gesture and conjured two chairs with, Harry wasn't surprised to see, some elaborate carving worked into the backs.

Ignoring, or perhaps not noticing, this blatant show-off, Neville gestured for Proudfoot and Felix to sit. Harry gulped, feeling as though he was reliving his moment of awful realisation, as they stepped forward and saw the suspect's face.

"Oh, Harry." Proudfoot turned to him. Harry forced his expression to remain neutral. Felix set himself down in the chair gently, as though worried he'd frighten it away with any sudden movements, but that was nothing more than usual. Felix was a Junior on the same year of training as Tracey Dunville. Harry often wondered if their incurable air of panic was some lingering effect of being born in the last, terrible year of the War.

Felix finally spoke. "Do we start, then?" He turned to Harry.

"I suppose so," Harry said. "I mean, cer-certainly."

"I'll do the honours, if you like." Proudfoot nodded to Harry, with a look at Lily.

"I'll transcribe." Tracey conjured a peacock quill and a sheet of parchment adorned with a border which matched the woodwork on the chairs.

"Please," Proudfoot said, "Plain parchment."

She sighed and waved her wand so the patterns disappeared.

Proudfoot turned to Lily. "Stand."

Lily winced again as her body shifted against her cuffed hands, then bent her knees and managed to arch herself upright.

"This is now an official trial and evidence given may be used against you." Proudfoot switched from gruffness to his formal questioning tone in a effortless transition that might, under other circumstances, have been almost comical. "Do you understand this?"

Lily looked at a point above Neville's head. "Yes."

"State your name."

Tracey poised her pen.

"Lily Luna Potter."

"Age?"

"Fifteen."

"Are you a student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

"Yes."

"Who's got the wand?" Proudfoot asked.

Harry withdrew his daughter's wand from his pocket and handed it over.

"Is this your wand?" he asked Lily.

"Yes."

"Describe it."

"Eucalyptus and Op-opaleye scales, eight inches." Lily clenched her fists.

Proudfoot held his own wand tip to tip with Lily's. "_Priori incantato_!"

A faint white glow formed around the tip of her wand.

"So, the last spell cast on this wand was _lumos_," Proudfoot said, as Tracey noted it down. "And before that... _priori incantato_!"

Harry felt his heart begin to beat faster, but it was another light spell, obviously cast as Lily had been running through the Forest.

"_Priori incantato_!" Proudfoot repeated, calling up the spell before that.

A translucent image appeared in the air: a deep cut sewing itself together. That explained the half-healed gash on Lily's face. She'd tried to fix herself before she ran. _Why did you run? _Harry wanted to ask. _Why don't you say something in your defence?_

Proudfoot brought the wands together again. "_Priori incantato!_"

The next spell was another incomplete attempt at healing.

"_Priori incantato_!"

A scream of agony. It was faint, but Harry wanted to block his ears. Neville was clutching the edge of his desk, skin stretched tight over white knuckles. Fierce red light sparked around the tip of Lily's wand. Lily collapsed back into her chair, and this time she did cry out as she fell onto her cuffed hands.

_Please_, Harry thought, _I don't care how many Muggles we have to Obliviate, let there by a major incident right now, any excuse for me to get out of here._

"I ask that," Proudfoot said, "In accordance with protocol, the suspect _stand_ before the questioner if she is capable."

"I move that Li- that the suspect be declared incapable," Harry said.

"Motion upheld."

Proudfoot repeated _priori incantato_. Lily's wand gave a brief silver light that looked like _Stupefy_, then the white cloud that told them that spell had been blocked.

"You were duelling?" Proudfoot asked Lily.

She nodded, nibbling on a ragged section of her lower lip.

"Please reply audibly."

"Yes," Lily said, "We were duelling."

"You and whom?"

"Cecil Jordan."

The previous spell was another _stupefy_, also blocked. Then a shower of sparks - _relashio_, Harry guessed. A blocked attempt at _expelliarmus, _Body Binder,various Babbling Curses… The spells became less severe as the record played out backward. It was a long duel; by the fifteenth or sixteenth jinx back, the images became fainter and still the spells continued.

"That was the beginning of the duel," Lily said, when a Stinging Hex showed up.

"Right." Proudfoot clearly wasn't about to believe her. It seemed she was telling the truth, however; his next ten _priori incantato_s revealed a string of attempts at Colour Change Charms, with varying levels of success.

"Charms class?" Proudfoot asked.

"Yes," Lily said.

"I'd like to revisit something on this record, before it fades." Proudfoot muttered a few incantations on his own wand, and the next time he cried, "_priori incantato_", they were back to that terrible scream. Lily's eyes filled with tears. Harry was relieved to see this sign of - emotion? Remorse? - from her, but somewhat frightened that it would set _him_ off crying in front of the other Aurors. _Bad father, _he thought.

"_Finite incantatem!_" Proudfoot yelled. The scream faded.

"Do you know what that spell was?" Proudfoot asked.

Lily nodded, dislodging tears so that they ran down her cheeks. "_Crucio_."

"You've stated that this is your wand. Did you cast this spell?" Proudfoot asked.

"Yes."

"On whom?"

"Cecil Jordan."

"Well, that seems about done then." Proudfoot switched back to gruffness. "Is there anything you would like to say, on the record?"

"No." Lily was now trembling so hard that her feet drummed out an involuntary rhythm on the floor.

"Very well. I declare the immediate questioning and wand examination closed."

Tracey put down her quill and rolled the parchment into her pocket.

"How're we going to get th'suspect to the Ministry, then?" Proudfoot looked to Harry.

It was procedure, but Harry suddenly hated it - how they talked about Lily like she was some animal they needed to transport to the abattoir. Before Harry could say anything impulsive, Neville interrupted -

"May I speak to the suspect briefly?"

"Cert'nly, Headmaster." Proudfoot stepped aside so Neville could see Lily.

"Have you ever had the Cruciatus Curse used on you?" he asked her.

Lily shook her head, dislodging more tears, as though frightened he was about to curse her.

"Do you understand what the Cruciatus Curse is?" he asked.

"'scuse me." Proudfoot stood again. "If y're questionin' her, that's the Ministry's job."

"Sorry," Neville said. "I'm not trying to elicit information from Lily." He turned back to Lily. "I know some students have gotten it into their heads that the Cruciatus curse is just like Sectumsempra or something."

Lily shook her head, staring at a point over Neville's left shoulder. Harry tried to recall whether he had ever told his children what had happened to Neville's parents.

"Let me just say that, having seen both used, I can assure you that there is a reason that the Cruciatus is the Unforgivable."

Lily flinched.

"You don't even learn about Unforgivables until sixth year, but like everything, people find out earlier than they're supposed to, don't they? I do wonder how you learnt the incantation, Lily-"

He stopped when Proudfoot looked ready to cut him off.

"But that's for the Ministry to work out," Neville continued quickly. "Unlike Jelly-Legs or Stupefy or even Sectumsempra, the Cruciatus Curse does damage that no Healer can cure."

"I know," Lily said.

Neville shook his head. "I don't think that you do."

_Don't tell her, Neville, _Harry thought. _If you mention your parents now, I will not be able to- _What? he wondered. Get out of the room without crying? Ever speak to Lily again? Figure out how on Earth to tell Ginny? He already doubted his ability to do any of those three things.

Lily's face scrunched as she asked, "Will Cecil be okay?"

"That's what I'd like to find out from you. How long - how long do _you_ think that you kept him under the Curse?" Neville asked.

"Only - only a few seconds."

"A few?"

"Maybe - I don't know - five?"

Harry thought back to his own experiences of the Cruciatus Curse. How long had Voldemort tortured him that day after Cedric's death? Time had lost all meaning. Unbidden, he had an image of what it must have looked like - Lily, his Lily, standing over a person as Voldemort had once done, while Cecil writhed on the ground.

Harry was going to be sick.

"I've got to - call Ginny," he said, standing.

Neville flicked his wand to unlock the door. "You can probably use Professor Bell's fireplace. Now, Lily, you've admitted to using an Unforgivable Curse. Therefore, unless a Ministry trial subsequently finds your confession to be false, you have forfeited your place at Hogwarts School -"

Neville's voice faded as Harry bolted out of the office to the stone staircase, leaving Lily to face expulsion alone.

_I am the worst father ever,_ he thought.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note (2): <strong>I've had an observant reviewer who pointed out that Harry wasn't sent to Azkaban for casting Crucio on Bellatrix in _Order of the Phoenix_. However, I think that a) the Ministry probably didn't know and b) Harry casting it on a Death Eater during a duel is different to Lily casting it on someone at school. Also, while a more experienced wizard might have been able to block the spell, Cecil is only in fifth year like Lily. Thanks for reviewing! :)


	3. The Blame Game

On missions it was always important to remain calm - something that Kingsley had often impressed upon Harry and Ron during their somewhat abbreviated Auror training. Harry guessed that this could apply equally to his current situation.

_I've done scarier things than tell Ginny_, Harry reasoned. Nothing came to mind. Where was Professor Bell's office? He'd never been to Madame Hooch's office when she was Flying Instructor, but remembered Wood once mentioning that it was near the Great Hall. Pulling his face into what he hoped was a semblance of composure, he continued in that direction.

"It's Harry Potter!" he heard a first year chirrup, before she was shushed by her friend. Harry recognised the excited one as Megan Creevey, Dennis and Romilda's daughter. They'd met before, at some family event, but Harry was glad she greeted him as a strange celebrity. It was easier, that way, for him to look at the ground and keep walking.

"Katie?" He knocked on Madame Bell's door, not sure quite how to address her, but quite sure that that was not his top concern at the moment.

"Harry!" Katie opened the door. "How are you? You're here about the, um, incident?"

"Uh, yes," he said.

Katie ushered him in. "Take a seat. Shocking stuff! Cruciatus, wasn't it?"

Harry kept his mouth shut.

"Oh, sorry, I get it if you're not allowed to say or something," Katie continued. "That's just what I've heard. And Cecil Jordan too - our Quidditch commentator - sorry, Harry, what brings you here?"

Harry shook himself slightly. "Uh, do you have any Floo Powder? I've got to talk to - uh, someone, and I was going to use Neville's fireplace but he's in his office talking to the suspect, and, anyway, I was wondering if I could use yours so-"

He stopped. Katie was looking at him. "You okay?" she asked.

"Fine."

Katie gestured at the fireplace. "Feel free. You going to go, or just call?"

"I'll just – um – call, thanks" Harry said, deciding that that would be the easiest way. He took a handful of Floo Powder from the dish above her fireplace. In his rush, he almost tipped the dish over, and had to steady it with his other hand.

"Sure you're okay?" Katie asked.

"Fine." Floo fell in powdery drops from his shaking fingers. He dropped to his knees in front of the fireplace and chucked the remaining powder into the flames before he dropped the lot.

"_Quibbler _sport reporters' office," Harry said clearly. He was then gripped by the exceedingly unpleasant sensation of his head spinning through space while his knees remained on the floor of Katie's office. Coughing ash onto Ginny's office carpet, he vowed, as he always did, to Floo his whole body next time.

"Ginny?" he called.

"She's gone to cover the Harpies versus Cannons match," another journalist said without turning around.

"Oh. Okay. I'll, um, get a message to her some other way then."

The journalist turned from her magicked-up Muggle typewriter. "She'll be back in an hour or s– Harry Potter?"

"Um, yes," Harry said. "It's fine."

"Nothing's happened?" the journalist asked quickly, no doubt assuming, as journalists seemed trained to do, that any correspondence from an Auror must signal the Rise of the Next Voldemort (and would require headlines to that effect).

"No," Harry said. "Sorry and, uh, thanks for your time."

In a bit of dimensional manoeuvring he had never understood, Harry rocked back on his knees, three hundred miles away, and his head flew through the flames, this time backward. He stumbled back to his feet in Katie's office.

"It's okay?" Katie asked, looking up from a book called _Make Quidditch Safety Training FUN!_

"Um, yeah," Harry said. He supposed his relief must have shown on his face, which immediately made him guiltier that he felt grateful for this new excuse to delay the inevitable conversation with Ginny. "Thanks, Katie."

"Any time," she said, as he left.

Despite not having run down any stairs this time, Harry felt the need to catch his breath outside Katie's office. He checked his watch. Ten minutes had passed since he left Neville's office – the expulsion would be over by now, he guessed, and they'd want two fully trained Aurors to help transport this level of suspect. He started back toward Neville's office.

He stopped at the stone gargoyle, unable to remember Neville's password. While he pontificated, the gargoyle sprang aside and he was face to face with Lily, Tracey and Felix. She looked tiny, flanked by the two Aurors with Proudfoot hanging in the background. Lily seemed unable to meet Harry's eyes. He was again secretly grateful, not sure what his expression should be if she saw.

"So, Harry," Tracey said. Her voice had reached its mid-mission level of panicked shrillness. "How will we transport the – the – suspect?"

"I'll take care of that, if you like," PROUDFOOT said.

"Thanks," Harry said. Proudfoot split off toward the Deputy Headmaster's office. The others sidled, apparently by some unspoken mutual agreement, into an empty fourth floor classroom. Felix and Tracey sat on a desk on either side of Lily, who stood staring at the blank blackboard.

Harry looked around the room. "Hey, this is where I had Transfiguration in –" he thought "—fourth year, I think."

"We had Transfig in here at one point," Felix said. Harry took in the desks – magically free of dust, but clearly out of use – blackboard and peeling wall charts, looking anywhere but at Lily. She seemed to have the same idea. As he pretended to peruse a poster on _THE DO'S AND DON'TS OF ANIMATE TO INANIMATE TRANSFORMATIONS_, their eyes met. Lily peered at him through dark, wet eyelashes. She no longer wore a Gryffindor tie.

The door opened, giving Harry an excuse to turn away.

"Let's go Side Along Apparition," Proudfoot said, holding the door open.

"Okay," Harry shrugged. Tracey and Felix slipped off the desk and escorted Lily out of the room. Lily looked down as she passed the senior Aurors.

"Well," Proudfoot said, looking back into the room at Harry, who again felt paralysed.

"Did you talk to the Ministry?" Harry asked. He forced himself to follow Proudfoot out of the room, to fall into step behind the Junior Aurors and the suspect, backup in case she tried to bolt.

"I Patronused," Proudfoot said. "I told them we'd caught someone, who'd subsequently confessed." He lowered his voice. "I didn't say who, but—"

"Well, they're going to find out soon enough," Harry said. Lily flinched, and he immediately regretted saying it. His daughter had – had _tortured_ somebody, and he was worried about what? His reputation? _What kind of a father am I?_ Harry wondered.

Their footsteps echoed in the empty corridor. Harry could hear his own breathing, and focussed on keeping it steady.

"I decided to Apparate," Proudfoot told Harry amiably. "Hogwarts doesn't have a fireplace big enough to Side-Along Floo, and the Hogwarts Express is in, but that's just ridiculously slow, and we couldn't expect them to do a run just for us."

They had reached the Entrance Hall. A few students were flitting around, waiting for dinner, released from their common rooms and no doubt curious to find out what the big danger had been.

"Do you want to go through here?" Proudfoot asked.

"No point avoiding it," Harry said. He pretended to read the memorial to those who had died in the two Battles of Hogwarts then, feeling bad about using his fallen friends' names as an excuse to avoid his own situation, stared into the middle distance.

"Watch out, Harry," Proudfoot said, steering him around a squat plant pot that definitely hadn't been there when Harry was at Hogwarts. Neville, as a former Herbology Professor, had evidently been inspired by the Muggle "indoor greenery" school of decorating. The plant turned its blue leaves toward them, as if taking their scents.

"That's a Nasus Hybrid," Proudfoot said, as they waited for the door to open. He reached out, and the plant extended a feeler to brush his fingers. The wide castle doors opened, just as two younger Ravenclaws walked past, complaining to one another about how their Hogsmeade trip had been cut short.

"I heard Cecil Jordan's been put in St Mungo's!" one said, sounding almost gleeful with excitement.

Proudfoot rolled his eyes. "Kids these days. No sense of respect for serious situations."

Harry actually found it almost an object of pride. After all, it was mostly thanks to him that the current Hogwarts cohort had little to fear in life. They had no reason to be afraid of the three Unforgivable Curses, of which Harry's generation had lived in dread. Well, they had had no reason until now.

As they walked down the dark pathway, lit by Proudfoot's bobbing wandlight, Harry's mind turned again to the question of how in the world Lily had learned that spell. It was, perhaps, a more savoury thing to contemplate than _why_ she had used it.

He could never remember discussing Unforgivables in front of the children. They had been moved up to the Hogwarts seventh year Defence Against the Dark Arts course, and, at Professor McGonagall's insistence, even then the students were never told the incantations. Only Aurors were taught how to use the Killing Curse, even then only in very exceptional battle situations.

He and James had once had a quiet, serious conversation about Imperious, as James was doing a homework essay on Compelling Curses as a Defence in Criminal Proceedings. And whenever Harry had been in St Mungo's with battle injuries, he hadn't told the children the curses involved, much less the incantations. Harry looked at Lily curiously. _Who are you learning from, Lil?_

The Hogwarts gates towered before them. Harry, feeling a sudden need to be useful, stepped forward and waved his wand in a complicated gesture. The gates opened silently.

Lily looked over her shoulder, back at the school. Harry had a feeling that this time she wasn't just looking away to avoid his face.

"Let's go, then," Proudfoot said. Tracey and Felix tightened their grips on Lily as they left the school gates.

"We'll Apparate from Hogsmeade?" Harry said.

"Good idea," Proudfoot said. "We'd better move away from Hogwarts, with all the Apparition alarms around. Don't need anything else going off there tonight."

They continued down the dark path. Harry's wand light fell on Lily's cuffed hands. Her fingers were bent, bruised and swollen where she'd accidentally sat on them.

"Do you want me to fix up your hands?" Harry asked.

He saw Lily nod.

"_Episkey_," he murmured, pointing his wand at each finger in turn. Lily whined in pain as her bones moved to heal through swelling. Harry cast some basic Anti-Swelling and Pain Relief charms on her fingers as they walked. When he looked back up, Proudfoot was smiling at him. They dropped back from the Junior Aurors so they could talk in private.

"Tha' was nice of you," Proudfoot said. "You know, if it were one of my kids, I wouldn' have any idea what t'do. Sorry, m'I being unprofess—"

"Thanks, it's fine," Harry said. Considering he'd wimped out of the last two awkward exchanges, not to mention somehow raising some kind of lightweight Death Eater, he was glad someone still admired his parenting skills.

"You know, it doesn't mean she's evil," Proudfoot continued quietly, as if reading Harry's thoughts. "I remember an old Auror tellin me 'bout a kid who used Imperious as a prank. He was expelled, obviously, but 'e just ended up workin' at Eeylops Owl Emporium or something. He didn' turn _dark_."

"Thanks," Harry said softly. Proudfoot's story was reassuring, he supposed, but he had a feeling that Crucio was an entirely different affair to Imperious. Especially in the eyes of the Ministry.

"ere should be right," Proudfoot said, as they reached the outskirts of Hogsmeade. "You two okay wi'the suspect?"

Felix and Tracey squeaked, "Yes!" in unison and nodded quickly several times.

"Meet you at th' Auror lobby, then," Proudfoot said.

With a mutter and a _crack_, Felix, Tracey and Lily disappeared.

"Password's _merpeople twenty five_," Proudfoot reminded Harry, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You right to Apparate?"

"Yeah," Harry said. He turned on the spot, murmured the Auror Department's Apparition password, and stepped into nothingness.

Harry tumbled through the swirling vortex. As he whirled through space in the normal, slightly nauseating flurry, tendrils of magic and forces pressed against him, seemingly _through_ him, the Auror Department's powerful security mechanisms at work.

He landed on his feet in the modest marble lobby, glad that _that_ was over with. There was a reason he usually flew to work, and a large part of that was avoiding the feeling that he was passing through a particularly intrusive Muggle airport security screening.

Tracey and Felix were waiting with Lily in the middle of the lobby. She was shivering again, although the lobby was far from cold. The lobby was otherwise empty, with even the out of date copies of W_itch Weekly_ stacked neatly on the low coffee table.

The old Auror sitting at the office desk didn't bat an eyelid at Lily's arrival. In fact, Darcy rarely batted an eyelid at anything.

"Are you back from the Hogwarts mission?" she asked.

"Yep," Proudfoot said, grabbing the sign up sheet. He passed it around for Harry, Felix and Tracey to sign. Usually, this process elicited a few grumbles (especially from the Juniors) about how all the _other_ Departments detected their workers by magic nowadays, and only Aurors had to go through this old fashioned business of signing in and out by hand. Harry personally found the process somewhat calming, a steady signal that the time for missions and panic was over for the day. Not today.

"See you," Darcy turned back to her own, current copy of _Witch Weekly_ as the Aurors stepped into the Department.

Lily's head swivelled around as she took in the bright stone corridor. It occurred to Harry that she had never seen his workplace before. They passed the small wooden door to the Aurors' desk offices, its cheery blue paint job belying the massive amount of magical reinforcement placed on it.

"Where are-?" Lily stopped herself.

"You're going to the cells," Tracey said. Lily flinched at the word, and Tracey looked back at Harry, as if to check she hadn't said anything wrong. Harry shrugged one shoulder. He kept staring straight ahead.

They reached the cells.

Proudfoot stepped forward to speak to the Auror on guard. "Can we put her in by herself?"

"Yeah, sure, actually there's nobody else in –"

Ron looked up and saw Lily at the exact same time that Harry noticed that the guard was Ron. He stared at Harry, aghast.

"Just – just take her straight in," Ron said shakily. "My shift's almost over." He gave Harry a look that told him they'd talk as soon as they could.

Harry watched as the two Junior Aurors escorted Lily into one of the three Auror Department cells. They were pretty basic things, just a bunk and a seat, but in his mind seemed warmer and safer for his daughter than Azkaban. She had, he knew, three days in the Auror lock up before she had to be transferred.

Tracey and Felix left Lily standing in the middle of the cell. When they had exited and locked the door, Felix flicked his wand and Lily's handcuffs fell to the floor. She stumbled to the chair.

Harry momentarily leant forward, as if to go talk to her, but then realised he had nothing to say.

"I'll go do a preliminary report," he said. Turning his back on Lily, he fled to his office.

_I must tell Ginny_, he thought. Before he could second guess himself, Harry grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and threw it into his own fireplace. This time Ginny was at her desk, writing, when his head arrived in the Quibbler offices.

"Ginny!" Harry shouted, with more force than he meant to. Ginny swivelled in her chair so quickly that it almost toppled.

She ran to the fireplace. "Harry! Are you okay? Are the kids—"

"They're fine. I mean, I'm not injured, and they're not injured, and – but I need you to come to my office," Harry said. "Now."

"Why?" Ginny asked. She had turned very white. "Is something wrong?"

"No – yes. But I – I can't explain now," Harry said.

"I'll come," Ginny said. She was already stepping toward the fire.

"You can't Floo _into_ Auror offices," Harry said. "You'll have to go through the Ministry lobby."

Ginny swore. "Get out of the fireplace so I can use it, then! Sorry," she added. "I'm coming, Harry. What's going on?"

She suddenly sounded like the frightened girl Harry had rescued from the Chamber of Secrets.

"L—" Something was blocking Harry's throat when he tried to say his daughter's name. "Just come. Nobody's in danger. _Don't worry_."

He knew that she would. As his head flew back to his office, Harry tried to convince himself that this wasn't something he could discuss over the Floo. His terror at the thought of having to talk face-to-face told him he was just a wimp.

He dropped his head onto his desk as the clocks rang out in unison through all the Auror offices. Not thirty seconds later, someone was banging on his door.

"Ginny?" Harry asked, unlocking it without moving his wand.

Ron burst in. "Harry – Lily – what's she—"

"She cast – she was in a duel with – she cast _Crucio_, Ron," Harry said. He had expected panic or hysteria to creep into his voice. It was flat.

"She _what_?" Ron had never been the most sensitive person in the world.

"She cast the Cruciatus Curse," Harry said, "On Cecil Jordan."

Ron sat down without being asked. "Cecil – Lee Jordan's son – the _Cruciatus_ Curse – are you sure?"

"Well, she confessed to it," Harry said.

"You mean, to you?" Ron asked.

"No, to Neville and Proudfoot," Harry said. "But I was there. And her wand cast it."

"Where's her wand now?" Ron asked. Always the Auror, Harry knew he assumed it was somehow a mistake. "She could have been Imperiused. Or – or making a false confession. Or something." He stopped. "Have you told Ginny?"

"I told her to come here," Harry said. "But she's got to go through the Ministry entrance, so it'll take a few minutes."

"Yeah," Ron said. He sat very upright and rocked his left foot back and forth. "Are you okay?" he finally thought to say.

Harry thought the answer to that was obvious, but he didn't want to discuss it. "How did she _learn_ it, that's what I want to know."

"She probably didn't," Ron said. "I'm telling you, it's probably a mistake, she—"

"She said she cast it for 'a few seconds'," Harry continued. "She must have learnt it somewhere, but they _never _teach that incantation at Hogwarts, and we don't discuss Unforgivables in front of the kids."

"Harry." Ron had now gone as white as Ginny. He was looking at his feet. "I might have."

"Might have what?" Harry suddenly felt very sick again.

"Discussed the curse. In front of her."

"You?"

Ron was rapidly turning red. "The other summer holidays – remember, after that ex-Death Eater managed to hit me with it while I was duelling him?"

"YOU TOLD THE KIDS?" Harry was on his feet, leaning across his desk. "YOU TOLD MY CHILDREN ABOUT THE CRUCIATUS CURSE?"

Ron shifted his chair back an inch. "I didn't _tell_ them, Harry, blimey, I just wanted to admit I mentioned it."

"What did you say to them? TELL ME WHAT YOU SAID?" Harry was practically splayed across his desk. He was burning inside. Some insidious thought told him _he_ was angry enough to cast the ruddy curse now.

Ron took a breath. "I was in St Mungo's, with that awful Caterwauling Curse that someone somehow cast on _me_. Anyway, in between yowling uncontrollably—"

"Get on with it!" Harry said quietly.

Ron slid back another few inches. "—I was telling them about the duel. I just happened to mention, you know, that I'd been tortured."

"You think that's just something YOU DISCUSS WITH KIDS?"

"I didn't go into details!"

"But you told them the _incantation_?"

"I didn't mean to!" Ron said. "I just said something like, you know, 'I tried to do _Stupedy_ but then he blocked it and _Crucio_ed me. I don't even know why I didn't say 'Cruciatus', but, you know, sometimes we say the name and sometimes we say the incantation."

"And it didn't occur to you that it was dumb to say this in front of KIDS?"

"She was fifteen years old, Harry. Not exactly a kid. When we were that age—"

"Yeah, well, we didn't exactly have the ideal childhood, did we?" Harry asked. He was too angry to care that he was crying.

"Harry," Ron said.

"Don't try to calm me down. _Explain yourself_. How did they know what it did?"

Ron stared at his feet. "Harry, I didn't mean to let them know. I just said it was painful. It was a duel story, not a moral lesson. After that bit I just continued on with the story about the rest of the duel. What spells were cast isn't _classified info-_"

"I thought you'd be smart enough to realise," Harry said, "That I don't want my kids knowing that stuff. Too late now though, I suppose you told them about Avada Kedavra too?"

"I _didn't_, Harry," Ron said. He looked on the verge of crying himself. "I swear I didn't tell them about that. Cruciatus was just something I mentioned in passing – we've always been open with our kids – you never told me you didn't want me to mention it in front of Lily."

"What, was I supposed to tell you that specifically?" Harry asked.

"Well, I dunno, you told us other stuff like that Albus is allergic to cabbage," Ron said. He sniffed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to – to corrupt Lily. I just thought – well, I _didn't_ think – we knew about Unforgivables for ages and _we_ never used them, so I didn't think they'd ever – and Rose and Hugo were there too, when I was talking to Lily, and they haven't cast any—"

"Congratulations then Ron," Harry said. "Yeah, yeah, _cause I'm such a great parent, I discuss Unforgivables in front of my kids and they're still good—_"

Ron jumped to his feet. "I didn't mean it that way, Harry. You know I didn't!"

"Just go away," Harry said. He grabbed his wand and flung his door open so fast he heard a hinge break. "Go."

Ron stumbled out the door, right into a confused and terrified-looking Ginny.


	4. The Masked Ones

Hi everyone! Sorry I'm only updating fortnightly at the moment - studying for my Muggle O.W.L.s I'm afraid. Thankfully exams are over soon so I'll try to get back to updating weekly. :)

Anyway, I'm going to respond to some reviews now, but if you're not interested in that, **scroll down for CHAPTER FOUR!**

hushpuppy 22: _How could Ron tell them the incantation, what it did and not mention that it was an unforgivable and meant instant travel to Azkaban?_

Excellent point. When Ron said he mentioned it briefly, he literally meant _briefly_. He was showing off how big the battle he'd been in (I can imagine Ron doing that), and probably said something like, "Oh, yeah, and they hit me with some Sword Hex and _Crucio_ but I kept fighting even though most people would be curled up in agony…" It's possible that Lily doesn't even remember this conversation with Ron - Harry is just angry and upset, and _assumes_ that this is how she knows what the Cruciatus Curse is, because he doesn't know how else she could know.

123ABC: _It's good, and has promise, but I'm just wondering why Harry didn't recognise his own daughter's wand?_

In-story answer: It was dark, and he wasn't expecting it, so he wasn't thinking "is this my daughter's wand?" as he looked at it. Authorly answer: I had to have one Auror check the suspect and one check the wand, and it was more suspenseful to have Harry not realise it was Lily's until a bit later in the story. :)

thecoolestone: _Well if Underaged wizards are supposed to be arrested for unforgiveable then harry would have been arrested in his end of term fifth year as he used it on bella._

I think that's an ongoing question within the actual series, why Harry didn't get arrested for using Unforgivables (which he also did in Deathly Hallows). I guess it's because he was on the "good" side, and generally used them on Death Eaters.

thecoolestone: _And even more an underage wizard can't cast an unforgiveable as strong as a grown up thats the reason behind it afterall. To cast lethal spells u need more aura(magic behind it) thats y a first year can't cast the expelliarmus on a grown up._

Another valid point. However, Lily was casting it on another student her age, so their level of magic was about equal. She still only managed to cast it for "about five seconds" though.

Overall, **thanks everyone for the reviews and questions**. Some of them, such as hushpuppy22's, have really helped me to flesh out the details and background to this story. And yes, there _was _a more complicated reason that Lily cast it, which will be explored in detail in this chapter!

"Ron, what's—" Ginny called after him. He didn't seem to have seen her.

Ginny ran around Harry's desk to his side. "There were reporters outside – ruddy Prophet – Harry, is Lily okay? They said she—"

"Lily – Lily—" Harry's throat felt blocked again. _I told Ron, it can't be impossible… _"Lily was in a duel."

"Someone attacked her?" Ginny clutched the edge of Harry's desk.

Harry shook his head. "Gin, I don't know, but it was with another student and she – Lily – cast Cruciatus."

Ginny stared at him as the full implications of this played across her face. She dropped to her knees. "No."

"She said she did," Harry said. He felt strangely light headed. "But I don't know – why—"

Ginny leant against his desk, sobbing. Harry felt that he had to do something. He leant down to hug her and pat her back. She was shivering so hard that she shook them both.

"It's – um—" Harry couldn't think of anything to say. He already felt a trickle of shame about shouting at Ron - it would upset Ginny even more when she found that out.

"Where is she?" Ginny asked. She wrenched her head off Harry's shoulder and stared wildly around the office. "Az-azkaban?"

"No, no, she's in the cells here," Harry said.

"I need to see her." Ginny sounded so much like her mother that Harry was suddenly sure that she'd go off at Lily like a Howler. "To check that she's – is she injured?"

She stood, still looking around in that lost way.

"Not seriously, that I could see," Harry said. "She—" He decided against telling Ginny how Lily's handcuffs had broken her own fingers. "She's okay."

"Do you think she actually did cast it?" Ginny looked at him. "Cruciatus?"

Harry tried to avoid her eyes, but she was pleading. She had the parental opinion, and she wanted his professional one.

"I – I think so," he said. "Her wand showed the curse and she said – said that she did."

"Can those things be wrong?" Ginny asked. "Could she have been drugged, or Imperiused, or—" She broke off into another sob, and started toward the door. Harry wiped his eyes on his robes as he followed her out.

Ginny had stopped in the corridor. "Where's—?"

"This way," Harry said. He strode down the office corridor and back through the blue door. They met nobody on their way, but Felix was waiting outside in the main hallway.

"Harry, um, Ogden looked at – the suspect and she said she had no active curses on her but some injuries so there's a Healer there now," he squeaked. When Harry didn't respond, he twitched with evident relief and scurried back to his cubicle.

"Why's he so nervous?" Ginny asked in a faint voice.

"Because he's Felix," said Harry. He pushed open the door that led to the lock-up and interview rooms, also known as the "Bad Guy Wing". Somebody had slapped a paper sign to that effect on the door. Harry ripped it down as he walked through – it was sloppy, highly unprofessional and, he discovered, also rather upsetting to the suspects' families.

It wasn't a corridor he generally lingered in – interrogations were the job of specialised questioners, and the debrief rooms for Aurors were located in another, slightly less intimidating, area of the warren-like Department. The corridor sloped slightly downward (there was a rather cruel joke among the Aurors that at least the Slytherin prisoners were right at home) and lacked even the false windows of the other Ministry corridors. The roof and walls were lined with a soft, blue-grey fabric, designed to absorb ricocheting spells in the event of a duel, but which also seemed to stifle the sound of Harry and Ginny's footsteps.

"Am I allowed down here?" Ginny asked, as they passed a door labelled _LEVEL ONE REINFORCED INTERROGATION ROOM – Bring suspects in Stupefied._

"If you're visiting a prisoner." Something occurred to Harry. "I probably should have signed off and then signed back in as a relative."

"Who cares?" Ginny said. Harry thought she was probably right. Nonetheless, he slipped his Auror badge off and into his pocket as they reached the entrance to the cells. The new Auror on Guard was Richard Boot, a Junior, who was apparently covering Tracey's shift. Ginny craned for a look at Lily.

"Go right through," Boot said to Harry.

Harry shook his head. "You've got to check us out properly," he said.

Boot looked at him, confused.

Harry took a breath. "I'm visiting my daughter."

"Oh – okay – I'll just –" Boot was suddenly very interested in inspecting Harry's feet. "Take your wand?"

Harry handed it to him. Ginny, frowning, did the same. Boot flicked his own wand, checking them for concealed enchantments, and waved them through to the cells.

The Auror-Healer was leaning over the bunk at the back of the cell. Ginny looked around, confused, then knocked on the wall outside the cell door. The Spell-Sorb fabric made no sound. Ginny tried again before clearing her throat in a way that reminded Harry of her long-ago Umbridge impersonation.

The Healer, deep in concentration over Lily, didn't respond. Ginny turned to Harry.

"Um, Healer Motten?" he said, not sure if he wanted to interrupt her while she was working on his daughter.

Motten turned. "Hang on a second, if you could, Mr Potter."

He saw Lily lying on her stomach on the hard bunk mattress. Her back was exposed, and covered in a series of what appeared to be rapidly healing gashes.

"Lily!" Ginny shrieked. She pressed herself against the metal bars to see what was wrong with her daughter. A moment later she jumped back, twitching.

"Careful." Harry put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. "Don't touch the bars."

Ginny nodded. She was in tears again, although Harry couldn't tell if it was Lily's injuries or the shock she'd received from the enchanted cell.

"If she was badly injured, they would have transferred her to St Mungo's," Harry reassured Ginny.

Motten smoothed Lily's robes over her back and let herself out of the cell. "She wasn't in too good a state, Mr Potter," he said. "It looked like she'd been hit on the back with some kind of lacerating curse – a powerful one, but perhaps not well performed."

Harry's stomach lurched. "Someone attacked her from behind?"

Motten shrugged. "Perhaps, or it could have been a ricochet, of course. I've noted it in her medical report." She tapped the clipboard she was holding. "I gave her a bit of Nap-Length Sleep Potion, because healing curse wounds can be painful, but she should wake up in a few minutes."

"Well – thank you," Harry said.

"Goodbye, Mr Potter," said Motten.

Harry had never appreciated Motten's professionalism – or her gentleness toward their detainees – as much as he did now. He was about to say something along those lines, but she disappeared before she could be further thanked.

"Can we go in?" Ginny asked.

"No," Harry said. He was about to conjure a seat for her, then remembered that his wand was outside with Boot. He noticed four chairs sitting at the dead end of the corridor, apparently for this purpose, and brought one over to the cell door by hand.

"Lily," Ginny said softly. Her anger seemed tempered, at least for a while, the sight of her daughter stretched out unconscious on the bunk. Lily didn't move; she had rolled, or been rolled, to face the back of the cell.

"Are they just going to make her wake up there on her own, then?" Ginny asked.

"I guess so," Harry said. Technically, Aurors weren't even supposed to be in the cell with unrestrained suspects, but Motten had always acted with a sort of gentle consideration that entailed quiet disregard for her own safety.

Lily shifted one arm and rolled over to face them, almost falling out of her bunk in groggy confusion.

"What's wrong with her?" Ginny asked.

She stood, and Harry had to put a hand on her shoulder to stop her pressing herself against the bewitched bars again. "She's just sleepy from the potion, and she's been Stupefied once today already. She'll be fine."

Lily's eyes flicked around the cell as her face flicked through confusion, fear, and then horrified realisation.

"Lily!" Ginny said. She craned toward her. Lily rolled to her feet and tried to stand, but flopped back to sitting on the bunk.

"Careful, swee—" Ginny's voice caught on the word _sweetie_, "—stay sitting for a while. A Healer gave you a Sleeping Potion so she could look at your back."

They lapsed into silence. After a minute, Lily's eyes had regained their full measure of conscious brightness. Still nobody spoke.

"Lily, why did you—"

Ginny cut him off with a look that was equal parts disapproval and gladness that _she_ hadn't had to ask that question, but Lily was shaking her head.

"Did you cast it?" Ginny asked urgently.

Lily nodded.

Ginny flinched. She looked as sick as Harry had felt. Lily sat up poker straight, regaining her strength, but didn't move any closer to the front of the cell.

"Did you know what it would do?" Ginny asked, then.

Lily nodded, but Harry knew it was a non-question. The danger (as he had discovered) from some spells, like _Sectumsempra,_ was that they could be cast without the caster knowing what the effect would be. But Unforgivables weren't like that. As Bellatrix had once glibly informed him, "You have to mean it."

"But why –" Ginny sobbed, "—why did you want to torture—"

"Cecil Jordan," Harry muttered.

Lily just sobbed. Harry felt a jab of annoyance at her – was she just crying like that to avoid answering questions? She wouldn't, he reflected, be able to do that in a formal interrogation.

"We just want you to tell us," Ginny said, pulling the parental "we" as only someone with parents could do.

Lily shook her head. "No."

"What could possibly be so bad that you can't tell your mother?" Ginny asked.

Lily let out a little moan.

"Did Cecil start the duel?" Ginny asked.

This was hardly relevant in a legal sense, but Harry supposed it was a fair question.

"I don't know," Lily said.

Harry wanted to know exactly how she could_ not know_ something like that, but he held his tongue. There would be time for interrogations later, and as for this, he had no idea how he should go about it as a parent. He decided just to follow Ginny's lead.

"Lily, it's going to be easier to explain to us than to—" Ginny turned to Harry.

"A questioner." Harry was glad to be useful for something.

Lily pursed her lips.

"They'll have ways of—" _making you tell_, Harry thought, but it sounded too much like a threat, something he'd say to an uncooperative Death Eater.

Lily stared around the cell, as if looking for an escape, or a place to hide.

"Lily - Lil, how could you think it was okay to do that?" Ginny asked.

"Who says I thought it was okay?" Lily glared at a spot on the wall.

"You don't talk to your mother like that," Harry put in, once again hoping to be helpful, but wondering if he'd been too harsh. What was it with this? If Lily had smashed up her brother's broom, they'd be angry at her. But since she'd put an Unforgivable Curse on someone, Ginny seemed to be walking on eggshells.

"We're worried about you, Lily," Ginny said.

"Visiting time's nearly over." Boot turned to look at them, from where he had been resolutely standing and pretending not to hear every word of their conversation.

Harry had lost count of the number of times today that he'd felt guilty relief to be forced to finish a conversation with his daughter.

"Okay, well, Lily," Ginny said. "We love you."

Lily broke down in tears again. She looked suddenly around the cell.

"Is there someone here at – at night?" She asked suddenly.

"There's always a guard, yes," Harry said. There were also a large number of anti-escape spells and alarms, including a particularly nasty Caterwauling Curse, and two metres of stone which was magically moved to seal the passage at night, but he couldn't tell her about those. In fact, Harry began to wonder where this conversation was going.

Lily was blushing as only a Weasley could. "Do they leave the lights on?" she asked in a small voice.

Harry's heart broke. "Yes, dar – darling," he managed to sob. "They leave some lights on."

_To make sure you don't escape_, he thought.

"Time's up," Boot said. "Sorry."

Harry repeated Ginny's, "We love you" as they left.

They took back their wands walked up the dull, silent corridor.

"She won't tell us _anything_," Ginny said, in a kind of tearful exasperation. "Are they going to have to force her? What are they going to _do_ to her if she won't tell them?"

"Nothing nasty," said Harry. "She'll probably tell them under Veritaserum."

"What if she doesn't?" Ginny asked.

"Ginny, I've seen Veritaserum used," Harry said. "I couldn't have resisted it at fifteen."

Ginny suddenly flinched again. "Harry, she cast the _Cruciatus_ Curse."

"I know," he said hollowly.

"Why would she do that? Did she actually – make it work?" Ginny asked.

Harry paused. "That's confidential Ministry information at the moment," he said. It actually wasn't, but he'd taken the easy way out of this all day. Why stop now?

"If she didn't cast it properly, will she still go to Azkaban?" Ginny asked.

Harry realised he hadn't actually considered that possibility. He had to concede that, from her own account, Lily _had_ managed to cast the Curse, at least for a few seconds. But could she get a reprieve if she hadn't done it properly? There was no way she could go back to Hogwarts, but at least avoid Azkaban?

Harry tried not to let this thought show on his face. He didn't want to give Ginny false hope. "I don't know," he said finally. "There's probably not a precedent – it's an ugly spell, but pretty straightforward. Most people either cast it, or they don't."

"What I want to know is _why_?" Ginny said. "I mean, she's _Lily_."

"I don't know," Harry said again. He felt even more useless; now he couldn't even function as a source of information.

"She seemed a bit sullen in the letters she sent us over first term," Ginny said, "But – no offence – you were kind of the same when you were fifteen. And she was fine at Christmas."

"Uh, yeah," Harry said. He'd been on a long assignment over most of the Christmas holidays, and hadn't had Ginny's opportunity to closely observe Lily's behaviour. He was just thinking of something more useful to say when Ginny started talking again.

"Harry, there's not, you know, last month the _Quibbler_ did a report on this group – the Masked Ones, or something?" Ginny had gone very white.

Harry, however, was confused. "I didn't see that."

"They weren't allowed to publish it," Ginny said. "Luna was doing a story on this group, like Death Eater students, or something, but the Ministry called, and said we couldn't publish it."

Harry stiffened. "You think she's a member of some _group_?"

"I don't _think_ she is – I'm just worried – because it was obviously real, or the Ministry wouldn't have stopped us publishing it, would they?"

"Not necessarily," Harry said. He tried to keep his tone light. "Generally, the Ministry discourages articles that might give publicity to terrorist groups-"

"So it is real?" Ginny grabbed his arm.

"-real _or_ imagined ones." Harry pulled his arm away so she couldn't feel him shaking.

Something had entered his head that _was_ classified Ministry information. As usual, the _Quibbler_'s nonsense contained a grain of truth. "The Masked Ones" was a quintessentially ridiculous name, and Luna had probably made it up to add interest to her article. But it was true that, recently, the Aurors had been tracking a growing, Death Eater-like group - one that seemed to be trying to recruit students.

"Lily's not Pureblood," Harry burst out suddenly, as they entered his office. "I'm half Muggleborn, so—"

"She's as close as anyb– so you're saying there is a group?" Ginny asked.

"No," Harry said. How was he going to get out of this one? Even if the Minister for Magic _wouldn't _have his head if he accidentally released that kind of information to a civilian, he couldn't tell Ginny about the group. Worrying wouldn't help anything.

But Harry had already started to worry.

A Dark group was recruiting at Hogwarts.

And now his timid daughter, who still couldn't even sleep without a nightlight, had cast an Unforgivable Curse?

Harry had always felt bad for reading only half of _Parenting your Teenage Witch_, but he had a feeling there wasn't a chapter on this anyway.

**Thanks everyone for the reviews! I'm not going to "post/not post chapters unless I get a certain number of reviews", but I really like reviews. :) I'll try to answer any questions you post, unless there are too many.**


	5. Albus's Pledge

**Author's Note: Thanks for your patience everyone! Exams are finally done, and I'm hoping to get up 1-2 chapters per week now and finish the story within a couple of weeks. Replies to reviews and notes are at the bottom of the chapter today.**

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><p>"We'd better tell Albus and James," Ginny said as they left the office. "Before, you know, someone else does."<p>

"Nobody else knows," Harry said. _Well, other than Neville, the other Aurors, and most of the Hogwarts students_. How long would it be before word got out of what Lily had done?

"Where's James?" Harry asked.

"Working somewhere with Charlie. Bulgaria? It was Bulgaria in his last letter, but you know him-" Ginny gave a brave smile, "Never writes. Could you Patronus that far?"

"I can probably try a short message. Or send Wallis. He'll find him."

Harry accompanied Ginny out of the Auror Office. The Office had a private entrance, so he didn't often pass through the main Ministry complex, except in the early days, when he had often testified in court against captured Death Eaters, and, since becoming Head of the Office, to brief the Minister for Magic on major situations. Situations which were becoming less and less common. Most recently – his mind drifted nastily as they entered one of the main corridors – on the issue of this emerging Student Death Eater threat.

"Young dark groups of course aren't a new concept," Harry had said. He remembered trying to sound knowledgeable, as if he were in the thick of the situation. In reality, most of his information came from a briefing _he'd_ just received from the Head of Auror Archives and Intelligence.

"Yes, I heard that He Who Must Not Be Named used them to recruit," Cho had replied.

"Which is exactly why we're worried," Harry said. "I must stress that the risk at this stage is not great. Since the fall of Voldemort, we've been tracking a number of Dark groups, as I'm sure you know–" He'd paused; Cho had only been elected a month earlier. She nodded. "They tend to wax and wane, and more recently they've been waning. It's only that this one is recruiting students, and as it's confidential Auror information, we need your permission to inform the Hogwarts teachers."

"Of course," Cho said. "To watch for – unusual skills developing?"

"Not exactly," Harry said. "I mean, if someone starts casting Dark magic, that's a worry. But it's more looking out for any students who seem bullied, outcast, unusually quiet; on the other hand, someone who seems to be getting a sort of fan club around them may not be good news either."

"What do they do if they find them?" Cho asked. Harry had hoped she'd finish up the meeting soon - it was strange enough talking to Cho as the Minister for Magic, plus that he was reaching the limits of his hastily-acquired knowledge on the subject.

But it was her job to have an interest in the issues, just as he, Harry, was stepping into the role of the capable, knowledgeable Auror keeping the Minister informed. Not that he, Cho – or the previous Minister – were _un_interested; it was just that the Ministry had discovered its job was one half governing, and the other half assuring the still-traumatised wizarding world that they now had the mechanisms to stop war from happening again.

Perhaps that was what he disliked about the Ministry building. The pretence. Harry shook his head – looking at the rebuilt Ministry fountain, he decided it was the memories of Sirius's death here.

Stepping from the Department corridor into the main atrium, he was distracted from such thoughts by the appearance of eleven flash cameras in his face. Which was nine more than usual.

"Mr Potter!"

"—from the _Daily Prophet_."

"Is it true that—"

"_Harry!_"

"Because _we've_ heard—"

"-at Hogwarts?"

"—Unforgivable curse—"

"—_on another student_."

Normally, Harry would have faced the cameras and answered their questions in the calm, assuring tones he'd learnt from years of press conferences, peppered with "I _must_ stress", "minimal risk to the public" and "alert, not alarmed."

Today, he turned to Ginny. She was white.

"Please," he said, "_Please_—" He figured there was no point denying it. "As you can see, we're going through quite a difficult time personally—"

"How will this impact on your professional role?" A particularly bug eyed young reporter pushed through the throng to shove his microphone almost down Harry's throat.

"Uh, no comment," he said. He motioned Ginny back into the corridor, where reporters weren't allowed uninvited.

"But surely it's occurred to you that – if this is true – there could be a conflict of interest?"

"Funnily enough, I haven't had much time to think about that today," Harry said through gritted teeth. He could feel magic and anger coursing mixed through his veins. "Now, if you'll please let me and my wife go home, we can arrange a time—"

Some of the mob moved back, almost repentant, but the bug eyed one burst through the crowd, waving the microphone so close that it actually hit Harry's chin. "One comment?" he pleaded. "For the evening papers?"

The reporter's inkwell burst, spilling deep blue ink over his hands, robes, and the Ministry carpet. Harry was frightened at his loss of control – he wasn't even holding his wand.

Thankfully, it seemed to distract the remaining reporters for long enough for Harry to retreat into the sanctuary of private corridors. Ginny was leaning on a wall, gasping.

"What was _wrong_ with them?" she asked.

"Reporters," Harry said, momentarily forgetting that Ginny was one.

Ginny, however, appeared not to have noticed. "Scum." Her voice wavered, though whether her tears were angry or sad, Harry couldn't tell.

He could still hear the reporters behind the doors, apparently composing headlines: "_Potter attacks reporter over shock allegations _– that's _better_ than a comment!"

Harry led Ginny away from the doors.

"You _attacked_ them?" Ginny asked.

"I accidentally made an inkwell burst," Harry said. They started back to the Auror Department.

"At least Lily wasn't there," Ginny said, gesturing behind them. "How are we going to get out of here, though?"

"The Auror lobby has its own entrances," Harry said. "I flew here, but the fireplace is Floo-networked."

Ginny rubbed her temples. "Why didn't we go that way first?"

"Technically, only Aurors are allowed to use it. But it should work if we go together."

Ginny grimaced. "What if it _doesn't_ work?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno, guess we'll _all_ be in the cells then."

"Not funny."

"Sorry." They re-entered the Auror lobby. Darcy looked up as they arrived, but returned to her newspaper. Seeing that it was a _Daily Prophet_, Harry had to will himself not to rip it apart with magic.

Instead, he and Ginny each took a handful of Floo powder and stepped into the fire together.

"Twenty two Whispering Street, Godric's Hollow!" Harry wrapped Ginny in his arms as they started to spin, hoping this would work.

They froze mid-flight, suspended in a confused swirl of land and sky, like the view through a very rippled glass window. A tingle flew down Harry's spine. He looked at Ginny. _This was not a good idea_.

Then they started to accelerate again, spinning together and upward, and tumbled out of the home fireplace.

"What was _that_?" Ginny asked.

"I guess you're really not supposed to take guests through the Auror fireplace," Harry said. "Pretty bad security that that _did_ work, when you think about it; we should get that looked at, but it was lucky for us today—"

He stopped his babbling as they both remembered their current situation.

"Albus." Ginny stepped back toward the fireplace. "We've got to tell him what's happening; who knows what stories he's hearing at school."

"Right," Harry said. He grabbed their Floo basin (a fancy Muggle crystal bowl that _Dudley_ had sent them, inexplicably, as a wedding present) and held it out to her.

"You're coming too, aren't you?" she asked.

Harry flinched so hard that a third of the Floo Powder sloshed onto the floor. "Of course." He took a handful. Ginny, ever the economising Weasley, scooped up the dropped portion.

"We want the Headmaster?" Harry asked.

"That's usually who you contact at Hogwarts," Ginny said. She grimaced. "Or at least, that's who contacted _me_ when James put a Swearing Jinx on that gargoyle."

Her eyes filled with tears again. Harry gave a little shrug that was either a laugh or a sob, then threw his powder in the fireplace, not wanting to dwell on the stories of their children's _funnier_ transgressions.

The flames turned green as he stepped in. He felt Ginny beside him do the same.

Like many modern wizarding fireplaces (it was amazing the technological innovations people made in peacetime), Neville's was Approval-Required.

"Headmaster of Hogwarts Neville Longbottom, who is there?" Neville's voice boomed down the chimney.

"Harry and Ginny Potter." They replied.

Harry and Ginny spent an awkward moment staring at each other through the emerald fire before Neville, three hundred miles away, accepted their call and they spun through the flames.

"Harry, Ginny," he said. Neville was seated in front of the fireplace on one of Tracey's ornate conjured chairs, as though he'd been waiting for them.

Ginny spoke up. "Please, could we speak to Albus?"

"Of course." Neville cast a message Patronus, which galloped through his office door and out of sight. "I've already talked to him – I didn't want him panicking at some of the worse rumours."

"What are people saying?" Ginny asked.

"I've been a bit busy to listen closely," Neville paused, "But I've heard everything from 'Lily's dead' to 'Lily's killed Cecil'."

Ginny gasped.

"Thankfully, a lot of students have seen Lily and Cecil alive, so I don't think too many of them believe that," Neville said. "How are you?"

"We're – holding up," Harry lied. They lapsed into silence, which was not made any less awkward by the Gryffindor tie that lay, like a discarded ribbon, across the chair Lily had occupied two hours ago.

"I'm sorry – take a seat," Neville said. Two chairs, one plain and one of Tracey's ornate ones, slid forward to face his. They sat.

"I'm sorry that I had to expel Lily," Neville said.

"I understand," Harry said, although he seethed at the thought. "Following policy—"

"Of course, if she's found innocent, her place will always be open," Neville said.

"I'm sorry she – did that," Harry said.

Neville opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking at Ginny. Ginny gave him a curious frown, and Neville covered the pause by going into a short spiel on how it wasn't their fault _at all _what Lily had done.

Harry didn't find it comforting. Moreover, he was concerned about Neville's sudden silence. What_ would he want to say to me, that he couldn't mention in front of Ginny? _Harry wondered. That could only mean it was legally confidential - something that both Aurors and schoolteachers, but nobody else, could know. He vowed to speak to Neville, alone, as soon as he could.

Somebody knocked on the door.

"Come in." Neville unlocked it, barely touching his wand.

Albus stumbled into the office. His seventeen year old frame had a lanky, Weasley look, and he hadn't quite lost the air of awkwardness that dogged him as a child.

"Good evening, Headmaster," Albus said. Unlike James before him, Albus was obviously not a frequent visitor to the Headmaster's office. He looked around at the numerous bookshelves and puffing instruments that had been inherited from Dumbledore, as well as Neville's own additions of trailing, gently swaying and (in one case) colour-changing potted plants. Then his eyes fixed on Ginny and Harry.

"Mum," he said. "Is Lily okay?"

Ginny nodded.

"Cecil is okay."

"You went to see him?" Harry couldn't tell whether Ginny was angry or impressed by her son's generosity.

Albus nodded. "Well, we kind of used to be friends."

"Sorry, take a seat." Neville waved his wand and the remaining chair slid into their circle. The Gryffindor tie had vanished.

"What's going to happen to her?" Albus asked. Harry heard his voice break.

Neville stood. "Would you like to talk to your parents alone, Albus?"

Albus nodded, and Neville stepped out of the room.

"She's not going to go to—" Albus broke off. "Where is she now?"

"She's in the Auror cells at the moment, Al," Harry said.

"She didn't do it, did she?" Albus asked. "She couldn't have. She's _fifteen_! We don't even learn about those spells until this year and we only did theory. I just had to write an essay on how to repel them."

"How did your exams go, Albus?" Ginny asked.

Harry flinched – he'd forgotten Albus had just finished his N.E.W.T.s.

"Good," Albus said, "But Lily couldn't have cast it! Where could she have learnt it?"

"Elsewhere," Harry said curtly.

Albus looked wildly from Ginny to Harry. "What are you talking about?" He turned back to Ginny. "I've kept an eye on her; she's been acting less weirdly since Christmas!"

"Kept an eye on her?" Harry asked.

Ginny nodded. "Well, since Lily was acting a bit – sullen – over Christmas, I asked Albus to, well, just to give me some updates. Not anything formal, just, you know, making sure that she was okay."

"In what way?" Harry asked, suddenly seething again.

"Nothing in particular. Just telling me if he noticed her behaving oddly – don't look at me like that; Albus has always kept an eye out for Lily! – or anything like that."

_This is because of what happened to you in first year, isn't it? _Harry thought, but he at least retained the self control not to say it.

Ginny seemed to sense his thoughts. "Sheesh, Harry, I didn't think she was possessed or - or - evil! I thought she was having some kind of _relationship_ thing – you know, a normal teenage bad-break-up type problem?"

"Well, we never had the chance to dwell on that type of problem much," Harry muttered.

"Yes, but Lily _did_," Ginny said. "And she's always been sensitive."

"So you kept some kind of secret _eye on her_ with Albus?" Harry asked.

Ginny and Albus simultaneously made noises of outrage.

"It wasn't _secret_," Ginny burst out. "Everything was in Albus's letters home, which you had the chance to read. Not everything is some massive conspiracy!"

And she was crying again.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. He felt sorry, though wasn't sure quite what for. For skim-reading letters? For whatever transgression or parental oversight had disqualified _him_ from being in on Albus's "keeping an eye on" Lily?

Albus sat upright, looking intensely awkward.

Ginny sniffed and looked at Harry, as if to say that they could continue their personal arguments later.

"Lily did know Cecil," Albus supplied.

"_Know_?" Ginny asked. "Were they – together?"

"I don't think so," he replied. "They're in the same year, but Cecil is in Slytherin, so I've seen him around the common room and stuff."

"What is he like?" Harry asked, hearing the edge in his own voice.

"He – well –" Albus shifted his feet. "He sort of – keeps to himself. You know Mr Jordan is, well, he's pretty into Gryffindor. They reckon he sent a Howler to the Headmaster after Cecil was Sorted. I don't think Mr Jordan is _mean_ to Cecil," he added hastily, "It's just kind of – awkward. He spent the Christmas holidays at school, and most of last summer at his friend's place."

Harry found it hard to rack up any sympathy for Cecil Jordan, so he decided on staying quiet.

"Lily's missing her O.W.L.s."

Harry looked at Albus in surprise. "If she's found innocent, she'll be able to come back and take them."

"When's she going on trial?" Albus slid to the edge of his seat and leant forward.

"They haven't set a date yet," Harry said.

"I've finished my N.E.W.T.s," Albus said. "I can leave and help you."

"Thanks Albus," Harry said "Don't panic, though. We've got money for lawyers, and we can go through appeals and appeals—"

"What if she loses the appeals?" Albus asked.

"She's underage, so probably not _life_," Harry said. He kept something unspoken: having seen Sirius after his imprisonment, Harry knew that this wasn't true. Even without the Dementors, any long stint in Azkaban was a life sentence. Nobody came out the same.

Someone tapped gently on the door.

"Hello?" Harry said.

"Sorry." Neville's voice came through the wood. "I've just had an urgent owl; I need to talk to the Minister for Magic."

"Er, come in." Harry felt awkward giving Neville permission to enter his own office.

"I can use another fireplace," Neville said quickly. "I just need to grab some files off my desk—"

"We're finishing up," Ginny said. She looked, Harry thought, limp, like Lily's discarded Gryffindor tie. He hoped she was in a fit state to Floo.

"No we're not!" Albus protested. "I want to come home. Now."

"Albus," Ginny said. "Lily would want you to enjoy graduation. It's fantastic."

"How am I going to enjoy it when I know Lily's wrongly accused and in prison?" Albus challenged.

"Please," Ginny said. "There's nothing you can do tonight, Al. Think it over, and owl me tomorrow."

"You're free to use the common room fireplaces for conversations with parents too," Neville said. "As long as you arrange a time beforehand."

Albus cringed – only first years were dorky enough to fire-chat with their parents. And even they mostly stopped by January.

"There's nothing childish about talking to your parents," Neville said gently, seemingly reading his thoughts. "I sometimes think we'd have fewer problems in this school if people did that _more_ often."

"Alright," Albus said. He looked at the floor. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, darling," Ginny said, wrapping him in a hug. Harry followed suit. Neville looked intently at his files to avoid embarrassing the boy.

"Owl me tomorrow," were Ginny's last words as she stepped into the fireplace.

Harry stumbled in after her, mumbling their home password ("Blast-Ended Skrewt") and was deposited moments later on the threshold of the fire at Godric's Hollow.

"You didn't have to force him to stay at school," Harry said.

Ginny turned from brushing ash of her clothes. "He won't be any happier here. He still thinks she was wrongly accused."

"But what if Albus just wants to be with us?"

"I thought we wanted the kids to have a normal childhood," Ginny said. "He can't miss graduation on account of Lily. Like I said, _she_ wouldn't want him to."

"I don't think we can claim to know what's going through Lily's head at the moment," Harry said. He forced himself to make his voice gentler. "If Al still wants to come home in the morning, I think we should let him. He's not necessarily going to stay here and miss graduation. Maybe he just wants to come for a couple of days, and go and see Lily in Azk – wherever she is."

Ginny nodded and sat on one of the lounge chairs. "Okay. How can we check that Lily's okay now?"

"They'll contact us if anything happens." Harry sat down beside her.

Ginny flinched. "What could happen?"

"Just if she's distressed or something."

"Of course she's distressed!" Ginny exclaimed. "Why would she just – you really don't think she's in one of those groups, do you?"

Harry shook his head, once. "Don't we need to tell James?"

Ginny stood up and opened the window. "Wallis?"

She must have magically magnified her voice, or cast some owl-summoning charm, because seconds later Wallis flapped into the living room, soaring as if from some distance away, and deposited a large, recently deceased mouse on the carpet.

"Charming," Harry said. He handed Ginny the quill and parchment.

"Am I supposed to write the letter?" she asked.

"Well, er, I thought you could phrase it better," Harry said.

"I barely know what happened!"

Harry took the parchment. "Okay, er, how about I tell you what happened, and you write it in some way that's not too – er, confronting."

"His sister's tortured someone and been put in prison!" Ginny's hand shook so hard she splattered ink all over the parchment. "I don't think there's some kind of pretty phrasing that could make that less confronting!"

Four drafts later, Ginny was satisfied with the letter. She handed the parchment wordlessly to Harry and then fell asleep - or perhaps passed out - on the sofa beside him. He stood up slowly, so as not to disturb her, rolled up the letter, and tied it to Wallis's proffered leg. A second later, he unrolled it, and added his signature hastily below Ginny's before reattaching it. Wallis gave his finger an affectionate peck before soaring off into the night.

Seeing the setting moon, Harry wondered how late it was. The only clock in the room was a family one, similar to Mrs Weasley's. Ginny's hand oscillated between Sleeping and In Distress as she stirred on the sofa. Harry's was likewise fixed on Distress; James's said he was Working, for once not flickering to Mortal Peril (such was the nature of a dragon catcher's work). Albus was In Distress. Lily, unique of all of them, was Sleeping without distress, but Harry knew that the powerful enchantments around her in the Ministry building were probably interfering with the clock reaching her.

Realising it was too late to talk to Neville now (and rather glad to delay that conversation), Harry settled himself on the couch beside Ginny.

No sooner had he closed his eyes than there was an insistent tapping on glass.

Looking up, he saw two things: there was another owl at the window, and Albus's hand had shifted to Travelling.

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><p><strong>Author's Note (continued from above): I must admit, I'm not the biggest fan of this chapter. I feel like it doesn't push the story along much, but I'd be interested to see what readers think.<br>**

**Eros Amor Black: _Your story so far is good. Keep writing. But I want to make on suggestion. Harry throughout the books was 'to hell with the rules' type of guy. In your story he is doing everything by the rules. I think that he would be doing everything he can to save Lily, to prove her innocent or to find a good excuse and not feeling sorry for himself._**

**Thanks for the suggestion! I'm keeping it in mind actually as it does seem Harry's getting a bit procedural. Harry's sort of frightened and numbly following protocol in the first few chapters, but I agree perhaps I've gone to far and made him a bit out of character.**

**hushpuppy22: _And is she part of the group or was she fighting the group? _**

**You'll find out! :)**

**Dassadec, AlbusExMachina (love that username!) and hushpuppy22: I can definitely see where you're coming from what that idea, as I did accidentally make it seem like that was the case. The story will remain T and family friendly; however, there is definitely something complex going on with Cecil and Lily. **

**Please keep reviewing! I try to reply to all reviews. :)  
><strong>


	6. The Cadre

_**Sorry for the looong delay in posting this chapter. I don't know if length of delay is related to length of chapter, but this would certainly seem to support that conclusion.**_

_**Answers to questions/reviews at the end of chapter.**_

**Chapter 6: The Cadre**

Despite Ginny's earlier restlessness, she was breathing slowly now, and her clock hand was fixed on "Sleeping".

"_Shhh_," Harry said to the owl. He wasn't surprised to see it was Albus's.

He was equally unsurprised by the letter:

_Dear Mum and Dad_

_I have to come home. I think there are people at school who know more about this than we do. _

_Don't worry, I'm travelling safely. Hagrid's taking me out to the train. I'll fly home from London._

_I should be there a few hours after you get this. If you're out, don't worry either. I have a key. _

_Love,_

_Albus_

Harry swore under his breath, not sure whether he was more angry at Albus, for dragging himself and Hagrid into this thing, or Hagrid, for agreeing. Not that anyone would ever _sack _Hagrid, but he could still get himself in trouble, sneaking students out of school. And the train – who knew who'd be on it, at this time of a weeknight?

He stared at the sky. Harry realised he had slept – the night was beginning to soften. The only thing he could do now would be to dob Albus in to Neville, and that wouldn't help; he'd be already halfway to London.

Harry wondered if James had got their letter yet. He looked at the clock – it still said _Working_. Maybe the owl wouldn't bother trying to reach him in the wilds of Bulgaria, would wait until he returned to his base in a few days. Harry found himself envying his oblivious, dragon-hunting son.

The thought of Neville reminded him of something. He'd meant to speak to Neville - he'd forgotten in his anger at Ginny – about whatever it was that the headmaster hadn't wanted to discuss in front of Ginny. And now there was Albus's letter.

_I think there are people at school who know more about this than we do._

Harry stepped into the kitchen to check the normal, time-keeping clock. It was five AM, too early to politely call most people, but most days the Headmaster was up at dawn, Albus had told them, still tending the Herbology crops.

Crossing his fingers that this was the case today, Harry pinned on his Auror badge, lit the kitchen fire, and took a handful of Floo powder.

Against his preference, he chose to go head-only for the second time in a day, so Ginny would know he hadn't abandoned her.

"Headmaster of Hogwarts, Neville Longbottom, who is there?" Neville's recorded voice boomed again down the chimney, with identical inflection to the same message five hours earlier.

"Head of the Auror Office, Harry Potter," Harry said.

The fireplace remained closed.

A minute later, Neville's voice came down again, this time naturally.

"Harry?"

"Neville, it's me," Harry said.

"Why're you calling as an Auror?" Neville said, but Harry's head was already spinning toward him.

He stood in the middle of his office, already in gardening boots and gloves, as Harry had anticipated. He took a deep breath, trying to dispel the sensation that his brain was spinning within his head.

"Hi, uh, glad I didn't wake you up," Harry said. "Sorry, I don't usually make work calls from home."

Neville nodded and drew up a chair for himself before the fire.

His eyes were darkly shadowed in a way that Harry was sure wasn't just a trick of the light. The papers on his desk had been arranged in a stack, and even the bookshelves were straightened. Harry got the feeling that Neville, like Ginny, hadn't had much sleep that night.

"So, um, how's Cecil?" Harry asked.

"Reasonably well," Neville said. "I've had updates every hour. He's been sleeping. Woke up about an hour ago, distressed but more coherent than earlier."

"That's, er, good," Harry said.

"How are you and Ginny?" Neville asked. "I mean, not that I expected you to be, you know, sleeping any more soundly than me, but—"

"We're holding up," Harry said. "I was wondering – a few months ago – we asked you to keep an eye on students for signs of—"

Neville nodded. "The – uh – Military Cadre?"

"Well, that's one thing they're calling themselves. We know there's a group going around with its own agenda, largely contrary to the Ministry's policies, and that they're not squeamish about using unlawful tactics to fulfil that agenda."

That was the way Harry had introduced the topic to Cho. Back what seemed like years ago, everything sanitised and euphemised, even in that private discussion between Head Auror and Minister for Magic. "Agenda" and "policies" belying what had the potential to become an all-out war. Torture, Imperiusing, and student recruitment fell under the tidy banner of "unlawful tactics", as though they were talking about teenage vandalism.

Neville was shaking his head slowly. "A few teachers did tip me off about a few students they thought were acting oddly, but it turned out that one was a seventh-year stressed about exams, and another had just found out his parents were breaking up. That kind of thing."

"And Lily wasn't mentioned? At all? And not Cecil?"

"Not Lily. I did hear about Cecil once or twice, but he's had sullen moments since he was a first year." Neville lowered his voice, as though they were discussing family scandals at a dinner party. "Lee's dealt with it well since, but from what I can tell, he said for _years_ that Cecil would be a Gryffindor. So when he got Sorted into Slytherin, there was nothing Lee could say to convince Cecil that he wasn't disappointed in him."

Harry winced slightly, despite himself. He'd heard similar things from George, although he'd mostly related Lee's side of the story – how Cecil kept to himself, sometimes outright accusing Lee of liking his younger sister (a Ravenclaw) more than him.

"And nobody thought that he might have been _vulnerable_ to being drawn into a Dark group, based on this background?" Harry asked.

A network of creases travelled across Neville's forehead. "I don't want you to go off thinking that because things are a bit awkward with his father, that means that Cecil's like Tom Riddle, either."

Harry flinched at the name – somehow, today, the thought of teenaged, darkening Tom Riddle frightened him more than Voldemort.

"He's sociable, as far as we can see he's got a good group of friends, from all the Houses. And so does Lily," Neville added.

"And Lily was friends with Cecil?" Harry asked.

Neville nodded slowly. "Well, as teachers, we don't pretend to be privy to every student's personal life. But yes, I would say that they were certainly friends, and, for example, I wouldn't be surprised if he had asked her to the Christmas feast together. Or if she had asked him, as is possible these days."

Neville stopped, and looked around his tensely-neat office. "It wouldn't be the first time a, well, a sort of love spat has turned to jinxes. But it made it much harder for me to believe that she'd cast the Cruciatus on him. I mean, not that that was ever easy to believe – it's not like I did think that she would cast it on anybody else, but—"

"Wait, you knew _before_ we went after her that Lily was the suspect?"

"No," Neville said. "I heard rumours of it while you were off chasing her, but I didn't want to Patronus and panic you."

Harry changed the topic. "So other people witnessed the duel."

"Not that we can tell, no. Some students found Cecil on the ground, and others saw Lily racing through the school looking suspicious with the back of her robes torn."

Harry felt his stomach drop. "You mean, people saw her running through the school after she – she cursed him?"

"Well, it was mostly first and second-years – all the others were at Hogsmeade. To be honest, the first thing I did was wonder why Lily and Cecil _weren't_. Students told me she came back to the castle, apparently for a travelling cloak. She went off in the opposite direction to where Cecil was found, so I assume she cursed him _before_ came back to the castle."

"Why would she do something like that?" Harry asked, but another question superseded this before Neville could answer. "Have you told anyone about this – detective work?"

"Are you kidding?" Neville asked. "I've had Auror investigators over here till two AM asking me and the students about it and searching the grounds for I-don't-know-what. Though since she confessed, I don't see that there's much point-"

Harry suddenly wished he'd gone back to the office instead of rushing home with Ginny. He felt that he was impossibly behind now, on this – the most important investigation of his life. He wondered if they'd interrogated Lily yet. And if so, what they'd had to do to her before she started talking.

"Well," Harry said. "Thanks for that. I guess – I guess I'll let you get back to your work then."

"I'd be glad to do a spot of gardening," Neville said. "After last night. You and Ginny – don't give up hope. It's true that I can't watch every student personally, but you and I know that Lily is a nice girl, and all her teachers say the same. I think there's more to this than we know at this point."

"I hope so," Harry said.

"Good morning," Neville said, looking out his window at the lightening sky. "Or rather, may your day improve from the night."

"Thankyou," Harry said. "Same to you."

Ginny was standing over him, glaring, when his head returned to Godric's Hollow.

"Where were you?" she asked. She stuck the letter out to him. "And what is _this_?"

"Confidential Auror business," Harry lied again.

"The _letter_?"

Harry stood up and brushed ash from his robes. "No, the Floo call."

"You didn't think to _wake me up_ when we got this letter that our son was about to embark on a ridiculously dangerous journey?"

"It's not _ridiculously dangerous_," Harry said. "And there was no point. He'd already gone when we got it, and you were finally sleeping. You'll need sleep to deal with today."

"What's today?" Ginny asked.

Harry tried to force _his_ sleep deprived brain to figure that out. "Charging, probably. And interrogation, which you can be present for, as she's a minor. And a whole lot more reporters."

Ginny opened her mouth, but there was a knock on the door before she could chastise him further. By the time they went to answer it, Albus was standing on the doorstep, holding his broomstick and shivering.

"Get into some warm things, you'll catch your death," Ginny snapped. Suddenly, she was back in Mum-mode, and Harry loved her for it. He nodded sternly in agreement. Albus looked at them both, his expression as sheepish as if he'd gone Quidditch-playing in the rain, his eyes searching.

He slunk off to the bathroom.

"Now we have _two_ disobedient kids," Ginny said as she thrust Albus's broom into the closet without drying it.

"To be fair," Harry said. "You can't really compare what Albus has done—"

"Yes, yes, but couldn't he have stayed at school?" Ginny said. "I know we weren't the biggest fans of following rules at school, but what's he going to help with exactly, other than missing the fun of his own graduation, all on account of what _she's_ done?"

"I don't know, Gin," Harry said. "I think he just wants to be with us."

Ginny went to get Albus a change of clothes. When he came back to the living room, she was hugging him while she cried into his hair.

Harry wondered why he never knew what to do when Ginny was upset, while the kids always seemed to figure it out. Instead, he asked, "What's he doing in his good robes?"

"We're all going to the Ministry," Ginny said. "Go get a clean uniform on."

Harry obeyed, and ten minutes later they were en route, enshrouded in a professional-grade water repelling charm.

"Ever been to the Ministry before?" Harry asked Albus, as they approached the dreaded public entrance.

"No," Albus said. He flashed a grin, for all the world as if it was Take Your Kid to Work Day. Not that they had that day in the Auror Office. He seemed temporarily entranced by the majestic Ministry lobby with its rebuilt fountain, buzzing with activity even at this hour.

There was a flash. And another. Harry counted fourteen cameras now, and to his dismay, saw that the bug-eyed reporter was back in a different suit (Harry hoped it had been Ineradicable Ink). The reporter shoved his magical microphone in Harry's face, then, seeing that he wasn't going to crack, turned it on Albus.

"Young Master Potter, is it? What's your opinion of your sister's crime? Have you left school to avoid attention there?"

"Go away," Harry said, glaring at the hand that had been holding the inkwell yesterday.

By adopting a tactic that essentially consisted of walking as though nobody was there, Harry managed to push through the crowd, Ginny and Albus following suit. The other reporters stayed behind, crestfallen, but Bug Eyes chased them through the main lobby, to the guest sign-in desk, and all the way to the door to the private departments, asking questions like, "Do you believe that your sister will crack in Azkaban? Are you expecting the outcome of the trial to be more favourable due to your father's high profile? For an unrelated story, what was your first impression of the controversial question five in the Transfiguration N.E.W.T. exam this year?"

Albus turned back to the reporter as they pushed their way through the private door. "No comment, you creep. No comment, you rat. And yeah, I wanted to Transfigure McGonagall into next week."

Harry shut the door behind them. "Nice."

Then he saw that Albus was crying. "How can they ask questions like that?" Albus sniffed. "Whether or not I think she's going to _crack_ in - in Azkaban? She hasn't even been convicted!"

"She hasn't even been charged yet," Harry said, adding _as far as I know_ in his head.

Ginny dropped behind him to pat Albus on the back. This route to the Auror corridor was even more convoluted than the one they'd taken yesterday. They passed a lot of people Harry knew, and a lot more people who knew Harry. Some of them were carrying their _Prophet_s, and he could see the headline: _Daughter Facing Torture Charges – Potter Snaps Under Pressure_.

After what seemed like an eternity of awkward _hello_s, they reached the Auror Office.

"You want to work, or see Lily?" Darcy asked at the reception desk, as if her boss arrived every day with his kid in tow so they could visit his other kid in the cells.

"Uh, visit first," Harry said. "Then I'll sign back in for work."

Harry led them in silence down the corridor that led to the cells.

Terry, on guard again, shook his head.

"Lily's in for questioning," he said. "You and Ginny can observe the interview, if you want. But unfortunately Albus will have to wait outside."

Albus looked around.

"Is there anything _you_ wanted to say?" Terry asked him.

Albus looked questioningly at Harry, as if asking for permission to continue.

"Kind of," he said. "I'm not sure how much help it will be."

Five minutes later, Harry and Ginny found themselves splitting off to opposite doors in the euphemistically-named "Interview Wing" while two of their children were interrogated simultaneously.

Harry went with Albus, guiltily glad that Ginny had volunteered to go in with Lily. In the intervening flurry of form-signing, Albus hadn't said anything further about what he was going to tell the interrogators. Harry hoped for his son's sake that he didn't outright lie, but for Lily's sake he hoped Albus would say something in her favour.

For some reason Harry had never quite understood, they felt the need to minutely rearrange the sparse furniture in these rooms, and the arrival of an extra chair for a parental observer necessitated what seemed like hours of fumbling around. Albus looked up at him, then back at the Auror-Interrogator who was now using a complex enchantment to check the positioning of the furniture.

Finally, the Interrogator sat. Harry didn't have much to do with interrogations. He'd always found it a nauseating task, and most Death Eaters had bragged, rather than confessed, their involvement anyhow. But he knew vaguely that this woman was called Spike. He couldn't remember her first name, but hoped for Albus's sake that it was something friendly, like Emily.

"State your name," Spike said.

"Albus Severus Potter," Albus said. His answer was scratched out on a roll of parchment behind Spike, which was checked for veracity by a shrivelled-looking wizard whom Harry had never known to speak.

Harry realised he'd been holding his breath, as if frightened that Albus would somehow incriminate his sister with his reply. He let it out as slowly and quietly as he could. Then involuntarily continued this breathing pattern for all thirty-two preliminary questions.

It was with some relief that he heard Spike finally move onto the topic: "Where were you on the fifth of June, at six PM?"

"I was coming back from Hogsmeade,"Albus said. "We're due back at six thirty."

"Alright. And what is your knowledge of the events that transpired at school at that time?"

Albus shifted one foot slightly under the table, moving his chair a minute distance back. "I know that Lily and Cecil were duelling, and that Lily cast – or she tried to cast – the – the Cruciatus Curse."

Spike nodded and leant forward across the table, closing the distance Albus had gained by shifting his chair. "How did you come to have knowledge of this?"

"I heard a lot of rumours that something had gone on with Lily, and I couldn't find her at school. I pretty much found out from the rumours that she'd been in a duel, but I didn't really know _what_ had happened until I was called up to Professor Longbottom's office, and Mum and Dad told me."

"Right," Spike said. The shrivelled wizard handed her a small scrap of paper, off which she read the next question. "Now, obviously you've known your sister for a number of years."

Albus gave a soft sigh that could have been a chuckle.

"And you have had an almost unparalleled opportunity to observe her behaviour. When you found out that she had cast the Cruciatus Curse, did this surprise you?"

Harry bit his lip until he tasted blood.

"No," Albus replied.

Harry's breath stopped in his throat. He had to bite down on his lip harder to resist the temptation to interrupt, and end, the interview.

Spike seemed only a little less surprised by this answer. "Why do you say that, Albus?"

"Cecil was – well, strange," Albus said. "I'm not in his year, but everyone started talking about it – he missed class, he'd been doing that since he was a first year, but a few days ago, a rumour went around that Rebecca Fudge's mum saw him in Hogsmeade during the school year."

Harry's stomach tightened. Hogwarts' secret passageways had been mostly closed off since the war, if not physically, then magically.

Albus continued. "People were saying that it'd take serious Dark magic to sneak out of school, and then back in, especially without any of the teachers realising."

"Why didn't you tell anyone of these rumours?" Spike asked.

"They _were_ just rumours, and it was just a few days ago," Albus said. "Everyone was arguing about whether to tell someone – well, all the Gryffindors, anyway. But Rebecca Fudge was begging us not to because, well, her mother was only in Hogsmeade because she'd had an argument with her dad, and she knew that'd get out if we told and, you know, since Mr Fudge's father used to be Minister for Magic, people like Rita Skeeter would have a field day about that. And Scorpius was saying we'd all be snitches, and that we were just hating on Slytherins.

"So eventually we decided not to do anything more till after N.E.W.T.s, and then everyone sort of forgot about it because we had a Hogsmeade trip the day after exams, and then when I got back from that, well, this had happened."

Albus was breathing hard now, as though _he'd_ just run through the forest.

"So in summary, what you're saying is that you believe that Cecil was using Dark magic?" Spike asked.

Albus nodded.

"How does this translate to your being unsurprised that your sister used the Cruciatus Curse on him?"

"They were friends," Albus said, "They seemed to hang around together a lot, and at the start of this school year a lot of people thought they were dating. But they had a big argument just after we came back from Christmas. As far as I know, they didn't talk to each other from then till now."

"I still don't see," Spike said, "What this has to do with the duel. Unless you're suggesting that an Unforgivable Curse was cast over a romantic issue?"

"No," Albus said. "We're not stupid. We know there's a group. There are people, sometimes, outside Hogsmeade, who try to give you pamphlets, and say stuff like that the wizarding world should form its own country and, I don't know, defeat the Muggle weapons or something."

"How is this related to the issue of your sister casting the Cruciatus Curse?"

"Well," Albus said, "I think that Cecil must have threatened her somehow. I mean, if he _was_ a member of this group – and how else would he get Dark enough magic to break out of Hogwarts – he was dangerous enough to threaten Lily. So she might have used the Cruciatus Curse in self defence somehow, if they had a duel. Who knows what stuff _Cecil_ knows?"

"The Cruciatus Curse is not a defensive spell," Spike said.

"Well, maybe it was all she could do to escape him," Albus said.

"We can't drift into speculation," Spike said. "Lily's reasons are for Lily to explain. Do you have anything else you would like to have on record?"

"All I want to say is, I think Cecil Jordan was in that group, or some other Dark group, and he was dangerous to Lily. So she acted in self defence."

"I would like to ask you one more question, if you don't mind. I hope that this will not be considered too speculatory—" Spike turned to the shrivelled wizard, who nodded. "But since you know your sister well, I think it prudent to ask you: Do you know of any way in which she could have come across information on how to cast this Curse?"

Albus shook his head. "We only learnt the defence at school. They aren't even allowed to mention Unforgivables in school until seventh year."

"There have been no situations in which Unforgivable Curses have been discussed in front of you?" Spike cast a quick look at Harry.

"Well, yeah, I guess most people do know about them before seventh year," Albus said.

"Mr Potter, the Ministry is trying its best to restrict information on Unforgivable Curses. As such, we are taking this incident very seriously, not only as a criminal matter, but as a procedural inquiry into how casting details for Unforgivable Curses fell into the hands of a Hogwarts student." Spike paused. "Can you tell us of any _specific instances_ in which the Cruciatus Curse may have been mentioned or alluded to in the presence of your sister? Would you prefer that your father leave the room while we discuss this?"

"No," Albus said. "It's fine. Once, Uncle Ron – Mr Weasley – was talking about how someone cast the Cruciatus Curse on him. He said something then that was maybe the incantation. Um, is it—" Albus lifted his fingers from his wand and whispered, as though he was afraid he might cast the Curse by mistake, "—_Crucio_?"

Spike pursed her lips, and the quill behind her scratched more vehemently than usual.

"I'm afraid I can neither confirm or deny that. In what context did Mr Weasley, as you allege, discuss this Curse?"

Albus shrugged. He had turned pink. "It wasn't a big deal, really – I mean, everyone could sort of guess the incantation from the name of the Curse when they taught us in school. Uncle – Mr Weasley said something like, 'He hit me with _Crucio_.' Uncle Ron wouldn't say anything more, and James said he knew what it did – he was in seventh year then – but he wouldn't tell us. Lily was there, then, but I don't know if she'd even remember it, because she was pretty distracted worrying about some bad mark she'd gotten."

"Any other instances?" Spike asked.

"I once heard Dad mentioning a torture curse, but Lily was asleep."

Spike pursed her lips.

"I wasn't meant to hear," Albus added hastily. "I was only about seven – I was going to Mum and Dad's room because I'd had a bad dream, and Dad said someone had put a torture curse on him. He was sort of—" Albus looked at Harry and turned pinker, "Well, upset, and Mum was rubbing his back. I thought it was part of the bad dream, so I went back to bed."

"Did you ever tell anyone about this?"

"No," Albus said.

"You were young. Try to remember. There is no chance that you might have told Lily?"

Albus turned redder, if that was possible. "Of course I didn't tell Lily! If I was seven, she was _five_. Do you think I'd tell my little sister stuff that was scaring _me_?"

"I'm sorry, Mr Potter, I had to ask," Spike said briskly. "And there were no other instances in which you hear curses discussed, where there was even an outside chance that Lily might have heard?"

"No," Albus said.

"That being discussed, you may go."

There was silence, during which the quill scraped out a few more words before the shrivelled wizard rolled up his parchment. He and Spike departed the room together, leaving Harry and Albus staring at each other from matching cold metal chairs.

"That didn't really help Lily, did it?" Albus said.

"It did," Harry lied.

_**Hope you liked this chapter!**_

_**Here are the answers to some questions and points people have been making.**_

Happy: _Theres no way Ron was the first time they had heard of the three Unforgivables. They are mention all over th place in the wizarding world._

_Not to mention if he said he was cruio'd then thats not enough for them to know the spell. Theuy'd have to look up the spell with the intent to use it._

**That's 100% correct – although, as discussed in this chapter, information about how to cast Unforgiveables is heavily censored in the post-war wizarding world, most wizarding kids find out about them, the same way that Muggle kids find out stuff they're not supposed to know. **

Zireael07: _What did Cecil do to make Lily THAT mad?_

**Hopefully this chapter begins to clear that up!**

**I'm hoping to finish this story soon, so stay tuned!**


	7. Flight from Godric's Hollow

**Hi everyone! I'm sorry for the long hiatus – I've had to divert my creative energies elsewhere, but that deadline being met, I'm excited to be back writing ****_Unforgiveable_****. Thankyou for all the reviews; I'm encouraged to see that people have still been reading while I've been gone. Without further ado, back to the story…**

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><p>Harry sighed as the fire deposited them back in the living room in Godric's Hollow. Following Albus's interrogation, he'd survived an extremely awkward interview with Proudfoot, at least a novella worth of paperwork, and no less than fourteen cameras. All of that without inadvertently using magic (although the bug-eyed reporter could either feel his rage, or had been frightened off by yesterday's experience).<p>

He hadn't had to use his wand once, but getting through all that had sapped more energy than fighting Death Eaters.

Ginny stumbled three steps and fell onto the couch. Harry, feeling suddenly weak himself, sat at her head. He started stroking her hair before he realised she'd fallen asleep, then, on reflection, resumed his caressing in the hope that it might stave off bad dreams.

Albus went upstairs, and Harry heard the door to his room close. It was good, he decided, to have one son home and safe. James's clock hand remained at Working, so he couldn't have known yet.

Wallis's claws clicked on the outside windowframe. Harry let him in quickly, before he could start tapping and wake Ginny. The letter was a brief note from Neville, saying that he knew where Albus had gone, that, given the circumstances, he wouldn't face punishment for leaving school without permission, that Cecil Jordan had been discharged from the hospital wing, and that they all hoped Albus wouldn't miss graduation.

"Hey, Al," Harry said, as he heard footsteps on the stairs. "Neville says you won't be in trouble—"

Albus arrived in the living room carrying his broomstick and travelling cloak.

"Already?" Harry asked.

"Well – like you said, it's not really helping Lily, me being here. Maybe I can find something out at school."

"Don't you do anything – at least wait until your mother wakes up so she can say—"

As if sensing that another of her children was leaving, Ginny opened an eye. "Al, I'm glad you're going back to graduation. And I know you're going to try and go to investigate this. But _promise_ me you won't do anything stupid."

Albus looked at the end of his broom at his feet.

"Al," Harry said, "Maybe I should Apparate you back? Instead of getting the Hogwarts Express all on your own agai—"

Albus thumped his broom against the ground. "Since when are you so – so – don't tell me you never broke a school rule when you were out fighting Voldemort! I mean, there's the bit where you were in the dungeon, the time you went to the Shrieking Shack, the Forbidden Forest, all those times you escaped in the tunnels and on freakin' _Thestrals_-"

Harry quickly recognised that his life story had an unintended side effect – it gave children the (not entirely groundless) impression that he'd spent the better part of his Hogwarts years outside of the rules and out of bounds.

"When I was a kid, Voldemort—" Harry changed tack, seeing that Albus looked ready to interrupt him, "—it's not just that there was Voldemort, or that the situation itself was bad. We had to work against the Ministry, because the Ministry was corrupt. Even school was sometimes-"

"And you're saying all those things are perfect now?" Albus said, "And that would be why Lily slept in a cell last night?"

"Albus, if you know something we don't, or if—" Harry paused. "Even if it's something you don't want to discuss in front of us – tell the Aurors. They'll let you have another interview, they'll—"

"ADMIT IT!" Albus half-shrieked. Dark firecrackers sparkled around his head like the lingering impression of light. "You're too afraid to break the rules now because you're scared you'll lose your job. Both of you! Lily's a PR nightmare for the entire department and she's a disaster for you."

As usual, the firecrackers waned as Albus started to cry. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's just – we can Apparate if you want. If you still want to take me."

Harry looked down at Ginny, lying with her head on her lap, his hand frozen behind her ear mid-stroke. He expected her to say, "Just a moment, young man," and when she didn't, he thought perhaps he should. But before he could figure out a better way to phrase this, Albus was storming down the front passageway, the door clicking open before he touched it or his wand.

Harry stood and grabbed his own wand, thinking absurdly of the Non-Lethal Apprehension Sequence. But Albus, cruel or not, wasn't a suspect, and nobody had been able to Summon him since he was toddling. Besides, Harry had already apprehended one of his own children in the past twenty four hours.

By the time he reached the door, Albus's broom was a spot in the sky, fading with distance and a fairly well-performed Disillusionment Charm.

Harry turned back inside, torn between going for his own broom, and sitting back on the couch to stroke Ginny's hair for a few more hours.

Disillusionment Charm or not, Albus expected to be pursued by one of them. Ginny, probably, the former Holyhead Harpies player, perhaps with Harry flying behind to unravel his son's shonky anti-pursuit enchantments.

He felt something melting inside him like black ice when he remembered what he'd said to his parents. After all the times Mum had Flooed home from work to spend lunchtime with them over the summer. After his father, just last year, had taken four weeks off when Lily was sick, even though the Healers assured him the new Depoxing Potion was so reliable that the hospital stay was really just for quarantine purposes-

Albus resisted the urge to swing his broom around, return on his knees and beg for forgiveness. Of course Harry and Ginny Potter wanted to behave themselves now. After a childhood spent mistrusting everyone they met, questioning the very fabric of their world, it had to be relieving to be able to believe that everything would be okay if they just abided by the rules.

The same thing happened in reverse to the invisible boy streaking through the sky. He'd grown up believing certain home truths: his family were good, Hogwarts was safe, the Ministry would protect him. Now they spun through his head with words he'd heard only twice, most recently today and both times overheard, so that nobody, good or otherwise, was aware that Albus Severus Potter knew of the Military Cadre.

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><p><strong>Bit of a short chapter today but I hope you like it! As usual, I don't do the "so-many reviews before I post the next chapter", but I do love reviews and answering questions! :) <strong>


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